


Humans of Lawrence Kansas

by Zoelily



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dcbb 2017, Dean gets to be Schmelke, Dean/Cas Big Bang Challenge 2017, Drug Abuse (not Dean or Cas), First Time, Friends to Lovers, Love Story, M/M, Mentions of Suicide (not Dean or Cas), Minor Character Death, Photographer Dean, Reference to RL Tragedy, References to Depression, Vet Tech Cas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-25
Updated: 2017-10-25
Packaged: 2019-01-21 18:33:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 42,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12463476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zoelily/pseuds/Zoelily
Summary: Photographer Dean Winchester just wanted a relaxing, extended vacation in Orlando.  He could spend some quality time with his brother, take some human interest photos for his blog, and relax in the sun and the surf, letting his mind focus on something other than his cheating ex-boyfriend.  It was looking promising until the news broke at 2:30am on June 12 about a shooting at Pulse nightclub in downtown Orlando.Vet Tech, Castiel Novak, can barely remember the details of the night his twin brother, Jimmy, died.  The loss and devastation all around him sent him into shock.  What little he does remember, revolves around Dean Winchester, the beautiful, green-eyed stranger who helped him through what was undeniably the worst night of his life.When Dean and Cas reconnect after the Pulse tragedy, they both have struggles that need to be worked through.  There are some ups and downs along the way, and Dean and Cas need a little push from a fiery red head and a psychic vet, before they come to realize that their new found friendship has more layers than they originally thought.  Maybe, love really can win in the end.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> To my amazing artist, Cat (Whichstiel). Your art is both unique and beautiful, and works perfectly with this story. Thank you for being such a joy to work with and for choosing my story to make art for.
> 
> Check out her detailed art masterpost  
> [HERE](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12265692)  
>    
> To Hannah and Rachel. Without you both, this story would not read like it does. I can't thank you enough.
> 
> To the gang on FB. You know who you are. <3
> 
> Dean's blog, Humans of Lawrence Kansas, is loosely based on the blog, Humans of New York, by Brandon Stanton. His blog started as a small project seven years ago, and now has over 20 million followers and several books. If you've never checked it out, it's pretty amazing.  
> [Humans of New York](http://www.humansofnewyork.com/about)
> 
>    
> *Note from the Author*
> 
> Although it is loosely based on a deeply tragic real life event, this story is a work of fiction. Like all of you, I was horrified to learn of the shooting at the Pulse Nightclub in Orlando, Florida on June 12, 2016. As an out and proud member of the queer community, it hurt to know my queer family had been victimized in such a way. I cried with millions of you worldwide while following the news online, sickened by what I was seeing, yet unable to look away.
> 
> It was only several months later, after the idea of Dean’s Humans of Lawrence Kansas Blog, patterned after the popular HoNY blog had settled into my head, that I considered beginning the story with Pulse. I was unsure whether I should. It was real news. These were real people. But, the more I thought about it, the more it spoke to me and the more I needed to write it. I wanted to write a story of hope and love.
> 
> When I did get past the planning and outlining stage, it was Pride season. I was inundated with images of Orlando pride, and One Love Orlando, and Love Wins. Those messages kept me writing, and reminded me that, whenever we’re marginalized, whenever we’re hurting, the LGBTQ+ community always stands together. We believe in love, and hope, and the fact that no matter who we love, what gender we express, what color our skin is, who we worship, or where we were born, we are all equal.
> 
> I hope, Dean and Cas bring you the same hope and healing in this story that they did for me. I put a lot of me into it, including the animals, whom I love unconditionally. When you’re feeling down, hug a dog or a cat, you’ll feel immeasurably better. I promise.
> 
> Thank you for reading.
> 
> Paula (Zoelily)

[ ](https://imgur.com/BSNbM99)

  
The vibration of the engine was the only thing Dean was aware of beyond the heavy bass of _Enter Sandman_ from the earbuds he remembered to grab at the last second as he was dashing out the door that morning. Every time he had to hurtle through the air in one of these metal death tubes, he cursed both his profession and his brother for choosing to live in Florida. The Xanax he’d popped while waiting to board was starting to take effect, so he knew he’d be down for the count soon enough. Dean really hoped for sooner rather than later. Taking off and landing were the parts he hated the most.  
  
It wasn’t long before the flight attendant passed by, tapping him on the shoulder and pointing at his ears with a frustrated look. Dean pulled the cord from below his chin, quickly mourning the loss of Metallica’s safety net as he heard the dude mumble something about listening to pre-flight announcements before he walked ahead to the next aisle. Even buzzed, Dean couldn’t help but notice the man’s perfectly shaped ass as he passed by wearing fitted navy uniform pants. Dean Winchester never missed a nice ass.  
  
What seemed like only moments later, Nice-Ass-Dude was tapping Dean awake looking just as annoyed as before. Dean was surprised the Xanax had kept him out for the entire flight, but silently thankful. He hadn’t had to white-knuckle either the take-off or landing. He stretched his arms above his head to get the blood flowing again and peered out the tiny window at the bustle of activity around Orlando International. He hated airports almost as much as he hated planes. He shrugged. At least the sun was shining, which would be a pleasant change from the weather in Kansas recently. Dean yanked his backpack and camera bag from where he’d wedged them under the seat in front of him and filed his way off the plane with the last few stragglers.  
  
As usual, the airport was bright with fluorescent light and bustling with people on a mission to get somewhere. Dean had been there enough that he was able to weave his way quickly past the Disney-bound families and annoyed looking business travelers, making his way to the luggage carousel where he knew Sam would be waiting.  
  
It was impossible to miss his brother’s shaggy mop poking out above the crowd. Almost anywhere, Sam was likely to have at least a few inches on the next tallest person in the room. Sam’s eyes found Dean’s just as Dean saw his banged-up grey suitcase tumble down the rollers onto the carousel. Dean increased his stride until he could bring his brother into a one-armed hug and held a ‘just a sec’ finger in the air before jogging over to haul his luggage off the carousel before it made another lap on the belt.  
  
Finally, Dean was in Florida. He was mostly awake, he had all his shit, and Sam was beside him. He could feel the tension in shoulders start to release just from those facts alone. Truth was, whatever bullshit was going on in Dean’s life, was usually made a whole lot better when he could hang out with his little, ok maybe not so little, brother.  
  
“Good flight?” Dean could barely hear Sam asking over the constant hum of general airport arrivals noise. Dean half nodded, half smirked in his general direction. “I’m here, ain't I?”  
  
Sam just shook his head and grabbed Dean’s backpack, tossing it over one shoulder and leaving Dean to struggle with the heavy suitcase and his camera. Yes, one of these days he’d retire the old thing and buy a newer one with wheels.  
  
“Still convinced you’re gonna die in a fiery plane crash?” Sam asked rolling his eyes dramatically.  
  
Dean knew Sam was just giving him a hard time. It’s what they did, but it still stung a tiny bit when Sam picked on his fears. “Hey. If it’s good enough for Buddy Holly, it’s good enough for me,” Dean replied, finally wrangling the suitcase into a position he could manage without dropping it.  
  
The drive from the airport to Sam’s apartment didn’t take long. As always, Dean took in the differences between the seamless blend of contemporary and historic city style that was Orlando and his home in Lawrence, Kansas. And palm trees? They were fuckin’ everywhere in Florida! It was like culture shock for Dean every time he came to see his brother. It wasn’t that he didn’t like it, in fact, he loved the ocean and the people watching, it was just such a one-eighty from what he was used to. He had to admit, Sam’s place was great too. The law firm he was interning for put him up in some awesome digs.  
  
Dean smiled as they pulled into the shaded gravel spot in the back behind the row of brick townhouses, taking in the potted lemon trees on Sam’s neighbor’s back porch. Thornton Park was a hip area, popular with young professionals just like Sam. The cobbled streets, trendy nightlife, and artsy shops seemed to draw in the young liberal crowd that his brother was comfortable with. Dean liked to tell himself it wasn’t really his vibe, but the truth was, he was a smidge jealous. Their parents’ old suburban bungalow in Lawrence was fine, but it didn’t exactly scream ‘young recently-single dude’ aesthetically, even if it was comfortable and familiar. It sometimes made him feel much older than his twenty-eight years.  
  
The hum of the central air was a welcome sound as Dean followed Sam into the open plan townhouse. He unceremoniously dumped his camera bag on the leather couch and dropped the suitcase with the thud beside it onto the plank floor. He managed to catch the drip of sweat just clinging to his brow with the back of his hand before it dripped on the leather.  
  
“How the fuck do you handle this heat, man?” he mumbled, as he turned towards the kitchen island where he hoped Sam was already grabbing a couple of beers.  
  
Sam was way ahead of him, a bottle already in his outstretched hand. “You ask me that every time you come here,” Sam replied, stopping briefly to take a swig of his beer. “You’d think it doesn’t get hot in Kansas or something.”  
  
“Mmm, damn that’s good,” Dean mumbled as the ice cold brew chilled his hot, dry throat. “It doesn’t get this kind of hot. It’s like walking through a steam room.”  
  
Clearly, Sam had been missing their brotherly banter as much as Dean had. He nodded his head in Dean’s direction and shrugged his shoulders with a smirk. “Feel free to lose a few of the Winchester layers.”  
  
“Hey, you’re a Winchester!”  
  
“Yeah, but I adapted,” Sam replied, glancing down at his own clothes and holding his arms out. “If it’s hot enough to feel like a steam room, I lose some flannel.”  
  
Dean took in what his brother was wearing, and had to admit, it made more sense considering the sweltering heat and humidity. Even with his still-too-long hair flopping over his eyes, Sam looked like a true Floridian in his pink board shorts, tank, and canvas shoes.  
  
“Don’t worry.” Dean replied with just as much snark, “I brought appropriate clothes to fit in with your hipster friends.”  
  
Sam tipped his head back and laughed before taking another long swig of his beer. Damn, Dean had missed his brother.  
  
Once Dean had hauled his things to Sam’s office/guest room, and grudgingly changed into a t-shirt, cargo shorts, and a pair of flip-flops, he and Sam settled in the living room with some chips and salsa to catch up. They talked on the phone regularly, but there was nothing like really shooting the shit in person and they didn’t get to do it often enough.  
  
Sam cut right to the chase. “So, you know you’re welcome here anytime, but you didn’t say anything about work out this way, so what’s up?  
  
Dean shrugged his shoulders. Fuck, it wasn’t supposed to be this hard to spill his guts to Sam.  
  
“You haven’t been yourself the past few days. You’ve been drinking and ignoring my calls. Your texts are sporadic and nonsensical.” Sam paused to look him right in the eye and Dean could feel the guilt seep in. Dean had been avoiding talking to Sam. He hadn’t been in any shape to talk to anyone though. Not until now. Dean stayed silent while Sam continued. “You decide at the last second you’re visiting your brother with no return ticket. What about Aaron? I’m thrilled to see you, obviously, but what the hell, Dean? What’s going on with you?”  
  
He knew it was now or never. “Aaron and I broke up,” Dean said, unable to meet Sam’s eyes, not wanting to see the pity there. He’d come here knowing he needed his brother to get through this, but now that he was faced with having to explain what had happened, he was embarrassed and tongue-tied. He took a deep breath, an attempt to calm his racing mind, rubbed his hands down the cotton fabric of his shorts to get rid of the clamminess, and raised his head to gage Sam’s reaction. Dean could see concern and confusion, but not pity. Okay, he could do this.   
  
“He cheated on me.” Dean let that statement sink in. “Four years, Sam. I gave him four fucking years and he threw it away for some asshole he met on a porn site.” Dean could feel the anger building again from the memory of the messages he’d found on Aaron’s laptop just a few days ago. “I came across a few of their conversations when he left his computer open and when I confronted him about it, he admitted to the whole thing.”  
  
Sam was shaking his head. “Shit, Dean. I don’t even know what to say. I mean,” Sam rose up from the couch, intimidating at his full 6’ 4”, and Dean could see his fists clenching and the anger in his posture. He understood that reaction. He’d have the same one if someone had betrayed Sam. “I wanna kick his ass, yet at the same time, that information doesn’t even jive with the Aaron I know.”  
  
Dean got that too. Aaron was quiet and book smart. He was a history teacher at Lawrence High, well-liked by his students, and respected by parents. He and Dean had met four years prior at a local coffee shop that had been exhibiting a few of Dean’s photos. They’d talked for hours that first night, closing the place down and continuing on to Dean’s where Aaron had basically never left.  
  
“I didn’t see it coming, man.” Dean flopped back on the couch, tilting his head on the cushion and closing his eyes. The last couple of days, confronting his boyfriend, hashing things out, dividing four years of accumulated possessions, had worn him thin. Dean was emotionally and physically exhausted.  
  
“What are you gonna do?” Sam asked before heading into the kitchen for a couple more beers.  
  
“It’s already been done. He grabbed his shit and moved out.” Dean shrugged his shoulders and drained the dredges of the bottle in his hand.  
  
“No chance you guys can work it out?” Sam called from the kitchen.  
  
Dean shook his head vehemently. “I can forgive a lot of things, Sammy, but not this. He tried explaining how he just got caught up in the excitement of something new. I dunno, it didn’t really make sense to me. I trusted him and he broke that trust.” Dean could feel himself starting to lose control of his emotions again and it frustrated the hell out of him. “Fuck! I can’t get past that, Sammy! I don’t even want to try.”  
  
Sam thrust another beer bottle into his hand and nodded. Dean knew his brother understood and would support him no matter what. That’s why he’d come to Florida. Yeah, he had friends in Lawrence – Benny and Charlie would both see him through, but there were some things that were just better handled with Sam by his side. Luckily, he worked for himself so he could take off anytime and stay as long as he liked. Speaking of, he figured a subject change might be for the best.  
  
“Hey, I sent a couple of new photos for Charlie to put up on the blog while I was waiting for my flight. I wonder if she posted them yet?”

Sam, clearly not missing Dean’s need to switch gears, jumped up to snag his laptop from the kitchen island. “Awesome! You grab some good shots at the airport?” he asked before opening the slim line computer on the coffee table.  
  
After Sam entered his password, Dean slid the laptop around to face himself and quickly navigated to the main page for _Humans of Lawrence Kansas_. He scanned the screen to see that Charlie had indeed uploaded the photographs he’d sent to her earlier that day, well I guess technically it was yesterday by now and included the ‘blurbs’ he’d composed to go with them. Dean checked the hits. Both photos were already well over 8k. He knew Charlie would have cross-posted to the blog’s Twitter and Instagram accounts. His best friend was a godsend, really. One of these days he needed to get his head out his ass and learn something besides how to text and a rudimentary knowledge of Facebook.  
He couldn’t help but smile. The fact that he could see something in a moment and capture it on film made him proud. People loved Dean’s photographs and often commented that they saw themselves in the images or they could relate to the personal stories that accompanied them. His photography business did well and he was happy with what he did for a living, but his blog was his passion. It was within the digital pages of _Humans of Lawrence Kansas_ that he could really express the beauty in humanity and the rawness he was able to find there. Everyone had a story. Dean just somehow had a knack for seeing it.  
  
Sam pulled the screen back towards him and scrolled to look at the photos. Dean knew the first one he would see was a young boy, maybe five, with a mesmerized look on his face, staring out at the tarmac. Dean couldn’t help but try to capture the look of pure wonder on the boy’s face. When he’d spoken to the boy’s mother to get permission to take and use the photo, she’d been happy to talk to him and give him some information for his caption.

[ ](https://imgur.com/fFf95c7)

Sam turned to Dean with a smile. “This is amazing, Dean. You can really see the anticipation in Noah’s eyes.”  
  
Dean grinned at the generous praise from his brother, watching for his reaction to the next picture.

[ ](https://imgur.com/UCJqBs8)

Sam grinned at the second photo. “Eileen is gonna love this one. I can’t wait to send her the link. She eats this kinda shit up.”  
  
“Still going strong, huh? You know she’s way too good for you?” Dean joked to his brother, giving him a shove in his massive shoulder for good measure. Dean adored Eileen. She was perfect for Sam, with her determination to save the world, and her gritty sense of humor appealed to Dean the first time he’d met her.  
  
“Yeah, she’s great. I was thinking about asking her to move in with me, actually.”  
  
“Um, wow,” Dean stammered. “That’s big.” He looked at Sam and all he could see was the little brother he’d taught to bait a hook and change the oil. “You’re still pretty young. You sure you’re ready for all that settling down shit?”  
  
“Geez, Dean. I’m twenty-four. That’s the same age you were when Aaron moved in with you!”  
  
Dean hoped his brother had missed his involuntary flinch at the mention of his ex’s name but he could tell by the look on Sam’s face that he’d realized his faux pas. “Shit! I’m so sorry, Dean. I didn’t mean to bring him up again.”  
  
Dean just shrugged his shoulders. “Forget it, Sammy. You were just trying to make a point. And I get it. I’m not tryin’ to rain on your parade. I think it’s great. I really do.” Dean leaned over and pulled the gigantor into a solid hug. “Thanks for listening tonight, Sammy – and congrats on the Eileen thing. She’s awesome. I’m proud of you.”  
  
With bigger issues covered, the brothers settled into lighter conversation as they worked their way through bottle after bottle of beer. Daylight slipped into dusk and then darkness as Dean grew more and more comfortable on his brother’s couch. He hadn’t even realized how much he’d relaxed until he was startled by a blast of music and vibrations from Sam’s back pocket. “Pearl Jam? Still?” Dean teased as he jumped back, giving his brother room to grab his phone. His teasing tone faded, though, as Dean glanced at his watch and saw that it was after two-thirty in the morning. When a call came in this late, there was always a chance it was an emergency.  
  
The concerned frown on Sam’s face as he texted did nothing to alleviate Dean’s concerns. The lines on his brother’s forehead seemed to cut deeper and deeper as his texts became more frantic. Sam slammed his phone down and grabbed the laptop, spinning it to access the keyboard. He tapped in a website address and then centered it so he and Dean could both see the live stream he’d pulled up on CNN.  
  
Chaos erupted on the screen in the background as Dean tried to take in what the announcer was saying, “…still trying to get a confirmation on how many people were inside the club at the time of the shooting…” catching just snippets while he tried to wrap his head around what he was seeing. People screaming and crying, ambulances and police cars. “The shooter is still inside the building as police…,” there were bodies being triaged, fucking cops and snipers everywhere, rainbow flags on the ground, the ticker at the bottom of the screen showing statistics and facts.  
  
“Sammy, what the fuck?”  
  
“Eileen texted me. She said there was a shooting at _Pulse_. That’s a gay club downtown.”  
  
“It looks like a damn bomb went off,” Dean said, unable to tear his eyes away from the carnage in the video.  
  
“Eileen works with _Equality Florida_ , and she got a call to go down there and assist with the families. This is big Dean. Possibly dozens injured or dead, and the shooter is still in there with hostages. They’re definitely calling it terrorism.” Sam stood up and started pacing. “I’m gonna need to meet her down there. My firm will want me in on it first thing anyway since we deal with all the Human Rights cases. Plus, fuck…” Sam dragged his fingers through his hair. “I’m worried about her being in the path of all that danger and destruction.”  
  
Dean snapped out of his trance. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll go with you.”  
  
“You don’t have to do that, Dean. You must be exhausted already.” Sam mumbled while closing the laptop and grabbing his phone.  
  
“No way I’m staying here worrying and waiting. We can grab a coffee from that twenty-four-hour place on the corner.” Sam seemed to realize there was no point in arguing because he just nodded. Patting his back pocket to make sure he had his wallet and phone, Dean followed his brother out the back door.  
  
Stepping out into the night, Dean was surprised by how sticky the air still was. He was sweating before they’d even reached the end of the sidewalk. As they drove through the darkened city, Dean watched the palm trees rolling past his windows, their graceful fronds artificially lit against the black sky. It was too hard to look at his brother, whose face grew tenser with each minute that ticked by. When traffic slowed, and the rhythmic flashing of red and blue lights became visible ahead, Dean knew they were getting close.


	2. Chapter 2

As Sam edged his Prius closer to the area of the shooting, traffic became erratic. Police cars were setting up barricades, anxious people lined the streets, and the sound of sirens from emergency vehicles drowned out the din of voices and traffic. Dean wasn’t hopeful that they’d be able to get anywhere near the club, and he had no idea where Sam planned to meet Eileen. They pulled into the visitor parking lot of a small apartment complex figuring they’d deal with the consequences later. Their priority right now was finding Sam’s girl and figuring out what they could do to help.  
  
Dean glanced over to see Sam tapping away at his phone screen, his face tense with worry. “She give you any idea where to meet up?” he asked, trying to use the calmest possible tone. Big brother mode was his default. He may have come to Florida because _he_ needed Sam, but at this moment, Sam needed _him_.  
  
“Yeah, she texted me her GPS location. It’s this way,” Sam replied and started walking at a brisk pace not even having to check behind him, knowing that Dean would follow without question. Dean watched as the area around them became more horrific as they got closer to the police barricades. It reminded him of the documentaries he’d seen of photographers walking into war zones. For just a moment he regretted not grabbing his camera, but then he considered the reason for the destruction and was glad he hadn’t. These weren’t the kind of pictures he took. Death and devastation wasn’t something he felt the need to preserve. He understood the reason for photographing such things, for awareness, for history, but he didn’t need to be the one to do it.  
  
After a few blocks of brisk walking to keep up with Sam’s longer stride, Dean stopped as his brother rushed up and pulled his girlfriend into a crushing hug. Dean was relieved to see Eileen unhurt and wasted no time going to claim a hug for himself when his brother eventually let her go.  
  
Dean pulled back to see for himself that she was okay. His ASL was still pretty rusty, so he spoke clearly and awkwardly, adding in signs for the words he could remember. “It’s so good to see you. I’m so sorry the circumstances suck.” Dean fumbled the last few signs. He was tired and anxious, and coming up with something close to what he wanted to say was impossible. He shrugged his shoulders in defeat.  
  
“I’m glad you’re here, Dean,” Eileen signed back, also speaking in her sweet, nasally voice for Dean’s benefit. Sam had ASL down, quick study that he was, but Dean knew Eileen didn’t speak as much when she wasn’t around those who didn’t sign.  
  
Eileen quickly filled them in on what she knew. Most of the people who had been inside the club had been rescued, some injured, many dead. The police had raided with semi-automatic weapons, but the gunman was still inside with hostages. _Equality Florida_ was trying to get information for families on the names of people who had been rushed to nearby Orlando Regional Medical Center.

Dean was feeling a little useless. Eileen and Sam both had a purpose down here but Dean, the one who would usually just rush into a situation without regard for his own safety, couldn’t really do anything but stand around. Wanting to make himself useful, he looked around at the chaos – at the people huddled in small groups, desperate for information and comforting each other in its absence. On a small patch of grass, sitting cross-legged by himself, was a man who looked to be about Dean’s age. He was wearing an over-sized beige trench coat, which was practically covering him, so much so that about the only other remarkable thing about him was a shock of dark hair sticking out in every possible direction so that it appeared the man had been running his fingers through it for hours. Dean found himself heading in the man’s direction before he even had time to question why.  
  
The man looked up when Dean sunk down to the grass beside him and Dean could make out tear tracks staining the man’s face, originating from liquid crystal blue eyes.  
  
“Hey,” Dean said gently. “You need some company?”  
  
“Um,” the man stumbled a bit, looking down into his lap. “I don’t think I’m very enjoyable company right now, but okay.”  
  
“S’alright,” Dean replied. “I don’t think anyone can be Little Miss Sunshine while this is going down.” He held out his hand to the man beside him. “I’m Dean, by the way.”  
****  
At first, Dean didn’t think the man was going to move, but then slowly he reached out to clasp Dean’s hand. “Castiel. My name. It’s Castiel Novak. Cas.”  
  
Castiel, or Cas,’ voice was not what Dean had expected when the man had first spoken. He’d seemed so small and unassuming, but his voice was deep and gravelly, giving Dean the feeling that there was a lot more to Cas than it would first appear. Dean could feel the pain and anguish behind Cas’ words though, bringing out his intrinsic need to do everything he could to help. He glanced over to where Sam and Eileen were now talking to a small group of people. Eileen and petite blonde woman were signing quickly and Sam appeared to be interpreting the conversation to the rest of the group, tossing in a few signs of his own as needed.  
  
Dean turned back to Cas, satisfied that he wasn’t needed elsewhere. “Are you okay, Cas? Is there anything I can get you?”  
  
Cas seemed to close in on himself again as he shook his head. “I just need to wait for Jimmy and Meg.”  
  
“Are they meeting you here?” Dean asked, not sure how to get Cas to elaborate. He was beginning to get the feeling that Cas really _did_ need his help.  
  
“They were at Pulse. They went dancing tonight. Latin night is Meg’s favorite because she says she loves the Cuban rhythms. I haven’t seen them come out yet and I’ve been waiting a long time, Dean.”  
  
Cas was beginning to get worked up. He sounded lost and scared. Dean could see the shivers starting to wrack his body even with the protection of the trench coat and the still, almost unbearable humidity of the Florida summer night. Dean was no paramedic, but he could recognize someone going into shock when he saw it.  
  
"Hey, Cas. I’m just gonna run over to my brother and get us something to drink, alright?”  
  
Dean wondered if Sam even knew where he could get water, or how to get anyone to help Cas. All the medical personnel were busy with the shooting victims. Cas didn’t answer, but he did nod his head just enough to show Dean that he’d heard.  
  
As he was heading towards Sam, Dean saw a small crowd gathered on the corner, just to the right of the police barricade. Curious if he could find out any useful information, Dean wandered over and was excited to see a group of people handing out blankets, hot chocolate, water bottles, and granola bars. Dean quickly grabbed a couple of everything and practically raced back to where Cas was still perched on the grass, exactly how Dean had left him.  
  
“Hey, buddy. Let’s get you warm and get you something to eat while we wait, okay?” Dean muttered, as he unwrapped one of the blankets and tucked it around Cas as best as he could. He settled back down beside the bundled up man and pulled the rest of the supplies into his lap, wondering to himself whether hot chocolate or water would be the best thing to try and get Cas to drink. He decided, since Cas clearly hadn’t eaten in some time, getting some sugar in his system might not be a bad idea.  
  
“Some great folks came down and started giving out food and drinks for people waiting for friends and family. I got you a hot chocolate and a granola bar. I think you should have some. You need to be bright-eyed and bushy-tailed for when Jimmy and Meg get here.”  
  
Dean wasn’t sure how much Cas understood about what was going on. He had no idea how many people had escaped the massacre unharmed and where they’d been taken. He’d literally only known Cas for twenty minutes, and he was already worried how Cas would react if his friends weren’t among the ones who’d made it out. He was sure Cas’ confusion was just from the shock overtaking his body and messing with his mind, but Dean could already see that Cas wasn’t handling things well at all.  
  
Cas seemed to be working on autopilot, but that mode appeared to include following all directions from Dean. He reached out and took the steaming cup of hot chocolate, taking a few careful sips before placing it on the ground in front of him. Dean held out the foil-wrapped bar and Cas took it from him. It took it a bit of ripping because of the tremors in Cas’ hands, but he eventually got past the wrapping and nibbled slowly on the snack.  
  
“Tell me about Jimmy and Meg,” Dean said. After the words left his mouth, he wondered whether it was the best idea, but Cas set the granola bar in his lap and smiled – an honest to goodness smile. It was as animated as Dean had seen him.  
   
“Jimmy is my brother, and he’s everything I’m not,” Cas pondered with a faraway look in his eyes. “He was always the one surrounded by friends when I was surrounded by books. When we were kids, he was always daring me to do crazy things, but then he’d take off and leave me to take the blame when we got caught.”  
  
“Let me guess, he’s the older brother?” Dean said with a chuckle, remember some of the rotten big brother stuff he pulled on Sam.  
  
“Actually, yes,” Cas replied. “He’s older by ten minutes, a fact he never lets me forget.”  
  
“I felt like I lived in his shadow,” Cas continued. “I still do in some ways. He has the corporate job and all of the frills that come with it – busy social circle, pretty men in and out of his life all the time, and of course Meg, who’s even more extroverted than he is.” Cas stopped and pulled the blanket tighter around his shoulders. “I work with animals and I like them more than people for the most part. I go home to my dog and read or watch tv.” Cas’ face had become resigned, but Dean could tell he was thinking more clearly now after the sugar boost. “I like my life, but I sometimes wonder if I’m missing out by not being more outgoing like Jimmy and Meg. “  
  
It was then that the reality of their current situation seemed to sink in and Cas’ tired eyes began to fill with tears. “What if they’re not okay, Dean?” Cas seemed to shrink down into the blanket, becoming visibly smaller right in front of Dean’s eyes. “Jimmy is all I have. I can’t lose him.”  
  
Dean may have known Cas for less than an hour, but he felt connected to this man. Cas needed him now, more than anyone else, and he couldn’t help but reach out his arms and pull Cas into a comforting hug. He wasn’t sure what Cas’ reaction would be, but he wasn’t expecting Cas to melt into him as if he were a life force that he needed more than air. Dean didn’t mind. If he could do this one thing for Cas – if he could be what he needed in this moment, he would do it. Dean held Cas while he cried. He held him until his tears dried up and the sun started to rise. He held Cas until the police and the _Equality Florida_ volunteers started rounding up family members to send them to the medical center to identify the injured and dead.  
  
When Dean and Cas parted, Cas thanked profusely him for being so kind to a stranger, and Dean felt a pang of sadness. In the hours he’d spent surrounded by devastation and destruction, he felt like he’d found a kindred spirit – someone he could share his pain with for a little while.  Their circumstances were different, hell, Dean’s cheating sleaze of a boyfriend didn’t even fit in the same category as what Cas was probably going through, but it still helped Dean to unload some grief and use that energy to help someone else. It was difficult to let go when Cas walked away, and Dean felt a single empathetic tear slide down his cheek as he climbed into the passenger seat of Sam’s car.  
  
The car interior was silent on the ride home. Dean could tell Sam had a lot on his mind. As a lawyer, or almost lawyer, who worked on civil rights cases, Dean could imagine the turmoil circling through his brother’s head. Dean was well aware that Eileen and Sam had met because Eileen’s organization worked closely with Sam’s firm. The two of them would be buried in work trying to get justice for the victims and their loved ones.

As they trudged back into the cool, dry air of Sam’s place, all Dean could think about was Cas. Not usually the praying type, Dean sent one up anyway as he hovered on the edge of sleep, hopeful that Jimmy and Meg were among those who made it out alive.  
  
It was well into the afternoon before Dean was finally conscious again. Traveling the previous day and then being up all night had been enough to knock him out despite his worry. As he woke, memories of the tragedy came rushing back to him. But, without caffeine, his brain seemed unable to really process anything. He pulled on a pair of board shorts before wandering out to the kitchen. There was no sign of Sam, but there was fresh coffee in the pot and green post-it tucked under Dean’s favorite Game of Thrones coffee mug. He picked up the note and read Sam’s barely-legible scrawl as he poured some much-needed sustenance into his cup.  
  
_Gone to meet Eileen at her office_  
Sandwich fixings in fridge  
_Left your laptop. PW: vedder1983 Text you later._  
S.W.  
  
Snorting to himself at the password, Dean carried his coffee over to the island and settled himself in front of Sam’s computer.  A cursory glance at his phone showed he had no new messages so he switched to the laptop and quickly logged into the first news site Sam had on his front page. Seeing the evidence of everything they’d witnessed, now laid out in print and photographs was surreal. It almost seemed as if this had all happened to someone else. As he scanned the articles, Dean’s stomach dropped as one headline caught his attention, “ **Names of Pulse Nightclub Shooting Victims Released”**. Dean scanned the list, knowing that he couldn’t possibly know anyone, but there was one name he was looking for anyway; he had no hope of stopping the onslaught of tears that started when he saw it. _Jimmy Novak._  
  
That’s how Sam and Eileen found him fifteen minutes later, still sitting on a stool staring at the laptop, crying for a dead man he didn’t even know. Sam handed a small bundle off to Eileen and rushed over.  
  
“Dean? You look like you saw a ghost, man.”  
  
Dean wiped his eyes on the back of his hand and straightened his posture. “Naw, I’m good. Shit’s getting to me, that’s all. How’d it go at the office?”  
  
“Chaotic,” Sam answered. “It’s heartbreaking to see all of the families coming in, but Eileen, Jo, and the others are so good with them.”  
  
“Jo? That’s the little blonde chick, right?” Dean questioned, remembering the woman Eileen was talking to that morning.  
  
“Yeah, that’s her,” Sam answered. “She’s a firecracker, and single too.”  
  
Dean shook his head, well aware of where his brother was headed with this line of conversation. “Not interested, Sammy. You can derail that train of thought right now.”  
  
Sam raised his hands in surrender. “Okay, okay, I know when not to push.”  
  
A squeal from the living room interrupted them both anyway as whatever Eileen had been holding bolted from her hands and took off in an explosion of black and white fluff into Dean’s temporary bedroom. Dean whipped his head around just as quickly to face Sam and Eileen. “What the fuck was that?”  
  
“Uh, well a couple brought it into the office today. It belonged to one of the women that didn’t make it out. They didn’t know what to do with it.”  
  
Dean looked at Sam incredulously. “What IS it?” Eileen had since come up and joined them and took it upon herself to bring her forefinger and thumb up beside her nose and draw them out and together like a whisker. Dean easily recognized the sign for cat. “But I’m allergic, Sam,” Dean whined, “and it just ran in my room.”  
  
“ _Her_ name is Rio, and she’s just a baby, Dean.” Sam pressed. “It’s just for tonight. Apparently one of the vets in the city is taking in animals who’ve been orphaned because of the Pulse tragedy. They’re adopting them out to new homes. Eileen and I offered to take her over there tomorrow.”  
  
Dean knew he’d look like a complete ass if he said no to that, allergies or not. He sighed and hoped Sam had some antihistamines in his bathroom cabinet. “Can we try to get the little furball out of my space at least?”  
  
As it turned out, they didn’t have any trouble at all coaxing Rio out of Dean’s bedroom. The little shit had taken a liking to his scent while she’d been in there and spent the entire evening curled up in a little ball wherever Dean was. The sneezing had started within an hour, but luckily Sam had some Benadryl on hand. Dean was sleepy from the drugs, somber because of Jimmy, and he was having a hard time keeping his mind from wandering to Cas – wondering how he was holding up after the loss of his twin. Dean hadn’t seen Meg’s name on the list, so he was hopeful that she and Cas at least had each other to lean on.  
  
Dean drifted into a restless sleep that night with a fluffy kitten curled up on his pillow and a blue-eyed, dark-haired, near stranger on his mind.

 


	3. Chapter 3

Dean woke up the following morning sneezing, a warm ball of fluff glued to his face with dried snot. When he tried to open his eyes, he found them almost pasted shut. He wrapped both hands around the offending kitten – Rio, Sam had called it, her – and deposited her in the middle of the bed. She had the gall to look annoyed at _him_ for moving _her_ when he was the one whose entire face was about to explode.  
  
Sam and Eileen were already in the kitchen by the time Dean washed his face, found the antihistamines, blew his nose several times, and stumbled in with Rio right on his heels.  
  
Sam looked way too amused for first thing in the morning. “Looks like you made a new friend,” he helpfully pointed out.  
  
“Fuck you, Sammy! I just had to clean a gallon of snot from my face because of that thing.”  
  
Dean looked over to Eileen for some moral support, but she seemed to be trying to stifle a laugh into her coffee cup. Obviously, she wasn’t gonna be any help. She did manage to keep herself together long enough to pour Dean a cup of coffee, so Dean counted that as a win. Maybe she was on his side after all. He slid his cup down to the end of the island and the damn little snot machine wasted no time springing up to land right beside his arm, curling into a ball and starting to purr.  
  
He didn’t miss the smirk from his annoying little brother. “Well, whether you like her or not, Dean, she sure seems to have taken a shine to you.”  
  
Dean took a satisfying sip of his coffee, inhaling the aromatic scent of quality coffee beans, unlike the cheap pre-ground stuff he tended to buy at home. He could see Eileen and Sam having a quiet conversation beside him so he busied himself with his own thoughts. He didn’t understand ASL well enough to eavesdrop anyway. They signed too fast for him when he wasn’t part of the conversation.  
  
The shooting was still the first thing on his mind, but he knew he needed to take care of his own business too. He’d promised Sam he would go down to the _Equality Florida_ offices with him in the afternoon to sign up as a volunteer wherever he was needed, but this morning, he firmly told himself he would look at his email and check his voicemail on his phone. Home seemed like another reality right now, but he couldn’t just pretend it didn’t exist.  
  
The sound of Sam clearing his throat snapped Dean out of his headspace. He turned to see both Sam and Sam’s partner in crime looking at him with identical puppy dog eyes.  
  
“What the hell, Sam? Have you been teaching her how to do that?”  
  
“How do you think she gets her way with me, Dean? She was already a pro.”  
  
Dean sighed. He didn’t stand a chance against both of them. “What do you want?”  
  
“So, I have to go into my office this morning,” Sam answered, running his giant hand through his hair, trying his hardest to look at anything but Dean. “…and Eileen has an appointment with her audiologist that she can’t miss, so…”  
  
“So what? C’mon. Spit it out, Sammy.”  
  
Sam sighed and flattened both palms on the kitchen island, leaning over and looking at Dean directly. “We need you to drop Rio off at the vet. She likes you best anyway so it makes sense, and seriously, neither of us has time.”  
  
Dean groaned and looked down at the perfectly innocent looking little ball of fluff curled up beside his arm. “What the hell am I supposed to do? Take her on the bus?” Dean was just glad he hadn’t driven down to Florida this time. No way that little shedder was losing any of her hair in Baby. He wasn’t a stickler for many rules, but no animals in his car was a big one.  
  
Sam shook his head hard enough that he ended up having to push half of his mane out of his eyes when he was done. “Eileen will drop me off at work so I can leave you the Prius. I’ll text you the address. You’ll be doing us a solid here, Dean. Please?” Sam signed as he spoke to keep Eileen in the loop.  
  
Ugh. Dean hated Sam’s car almost as much as he hated the idea of driving with a snot-inducing kitten, but he knew he’d look like a total dick if he said no. “Fuckin’ toy car,” Dean mumbled under his breath as he grabbed up on the keys his brother dangling from his finger.  
  
“Thanks, man. We owe you one. Seriously, this makes it so much easier for us.”  
  
“Aw, don’t get sappy, I’ll get you back,” Dean replied, with what he hoped was a sly wink. “You know it, I know it, you just don’t know where or when.”  
  
“Shakin’ in my flip-flops, Dean,” Sam called out from down the hall where he was already headed for the shower to get ready for the day. Dean looked over to Eileen, not really counting on any sympathy, but you never knew with her, sometimes she sided with him. She circled her fist on her chest in the sign for _sorry_ but the tell-tale sparkle never left her eyes.  
  
_Yeah, yeah_ , Dean signed back, laughing. “Sure you are.”  
  
Due to a large dose of Benadryl, a shower, and a surprising well-behaved Rio, the trip into College Park to the vet didn’t take long at all. It was a typical Orlando June morning, already hot and sticky with the threat of rain heavy in the air. Getting out felt good, even with the humidity, and Dean relished in the chance to clear his head. Thoughts of Aaron flitted into his conscious briefly, and he realized it was the first time he’d really thought about the man since his talk with Sam in the first few hours he’d arrived. The chaos of the past forty-eight hours had certainly done its job of distracting him from his personal problems, he realized. Although that was a plus, it wasn’t really the kind of distraction he’d been looking for when he’d come to visit his brother. Holding tight to the squirming kitten, he looked at the building the GPS had directed him to.  
  
Sunrise Veterinary Hospital was a pretty brick building situated on a corner with ample parking surrounded by shady trees. Colorful planters hung from wrought iron hooks at regular intervals making it obvious that someone took the time to keep the place looking well cared for. When Dean reached the cut glass double doors, a hastily computer-made sign caught his attention **.**  
  
 ‘ **Taking in orphaned pets from the Pulse Tragedy. Please see inside.** ’  
  
Any place that was willing to do that was okay in Dean’s books. He petted his fluffy charge on the head and murmured, “let’s do this,” before pushing open the door without the sign. The interior of the office was as welcoming as the outside. Large windows let in natural light and bamboo flooring kept everything clean looking. Dean was instantly drawn to the beautiful black and white photos of cats, dogs, rabbits, and a plethora of other pets adorning the walls. As a photographer, Dean appreciated an artistic eye, and whoever had taken these had one.  
  
“Can I help you,” a soft, feminine voice called from across the room as Dean was admiring a particularly stunning photo of a border collie with big, soulful eyes. The brass tag underneath read, _ZOE.  
  
_ “Oh, yeah,” Dean answered, turning his attention back to the counter and the matter at hand. “This little girl belonged to one of the people that…” Dean held up the little kitten. “…one of the victims of…” He was having a hard time explaining what had happened to the little fullball’s parent. The chick at the counter – Hannah, her name tag read – seemed to pick up on his problem. “I understand. We’ve taken in a few animals that lost their humans in the tragedy at Pulse.” Hannah gently lifted Rio from Dean’s hands and snuggled the kitten to her chest. Rio gave a weak meow in protest, clearly not wanting to be separated from her new friend. Hannah petted her softly around her ears and spoke out loud, whether it was to him or the kitten, Dean wasn’t sure. “Don’t worry, Castiel will find the perfect home.”  
  
Dean was barely able to contain his surprised reaction at the name. How many Castiels that work with animals could possibly live in Orlando? He didn’t give any prior thought to what came out of his mouth next. “Is Castiel here now?”  
  
Yes, of course,” Hannah said, continuing to smother Rio with attention. She turned, presumably to either call or go and get Castiel, when the man in question happened to come around the corner followed by the same border collie from the photo Dean had been admiring just moments before.  
  
“Hannah, would you mind keeping an eye on Zoe while I change the bandage on Badger’s leg? It seems Badger isn’t very fond of her,” Cas said, not even glancing in Dean’s direction.  
  
Dean took a moment to catalog the dark circles under Cas’ eyes and the greyness of his complexion, darting his gaze down when Hannah spoke to him. “Badger is an old, ornery little black and white terrier who isn’t fond of anything or anyone.”  
  
Cas seemed to realize then that someone else was in the room and turned to face him. Dean lifted his hand for a little nervous wave, immediately feeling ridiculous and dropping his arm to his side. “Hey, Cas.”  
  
“Hello, Dean,” Cas replied, unable to hide the raised eyebrows and slightly open mouth that gave away his surprise. “What are you doing here?”  
  
Dean’s brain to mouth problem still persisted. “I, uh…” Dean had no idea why all of this was so difficult. No, he wasn’t always the smoothest in social situations, but he usually held his own. Tongue tied and nervous weren’t feelings that Dean was used to. He tried again. “My brother, uh, Sam, he got this kitten at work, and it, uh…” Hannah saved his sorry ass again. “She’s one of the displaced babies from down at Pulse, Cas.” Hannah looked at Cas with fondness when she spoke, and Dean was glad; relieved to see that Cas had people around who obviously cared about him.  
  
Not wanting to look like a total idiot, Dean tried again. “Um, yeah. Hannah’s right. Sam brought her home from the _Equality_ _Florida_ offices. She was dropped off there. Name’s Rio.” Dean took a breath, impressed with himself that he’d managed a few full sentences, short and clipped as they’d been.  
  
Cas nodded and scooped the kitten out of Hannah’s arms. “Well let’s go check her out, shall we? Dean, would you like to come with me?” Cas asked. Dean smiled gratefully at Hannah and followed Cas into one of the examining rooms. Cas set Rio on the center of a large metal table where she protested for a moment and then settled back to sleep.  
  
There was silence for a few moments before either of them spoke. All Dean could hear was the constant whir of the air conditioner, interrupted occasionally by the weak yip and growl of a dog from a distant room. When Cas eventually did speak, it was to point out the source of the noise.  
  
“That’s badger. He’s really not very happy. Dr. Moseley is just finishing his exam”  
  
“You’re not the Doctor? Dean blurted out. Cas shook his head, the abrupt question seemingly reminding him why they were there, as he began gently prodding Rio along her sides and down her legs. She didn’t seem terribly impressed as she stretched and batted out a tiny paw in Cas’ direction. Dean mentally kicked himself “Sorry, I guess I just assumed.”  
  
“It’s fine,” Cas answered distractedly. “I’m a Vet Tech. I’ve been working with Dr. Moseley for five years.”  
  
Cas continued to check the kitten over, testing her hips, looking carefully at each of her tiny paws, and finally grabbing a penlight to peek in her ears and mouth. Once he was finished, he reached over to a ceramic jar with a paw print painted on it and pulled out a handful of kibble. He tipped it onto the table in front of Rio and rubbed her little black head. “You were a very good girl, Rio, and you’re perfectly healthy. I think someone would love to have you as their forever friend.”  
  
Dean watched Cas fuss over the kitten. It was evident that he had a way with animals. “Is Zoe yours?” Dean asked, remembering Cas talking about coming home to a dog.  
  
The change in Cas’ expression was unmistakable. His eyes brightened and there was a hint of a smile on his bleak face. “Yes. I adopted her the first week I started working here. She’s very much my best friend.”  
  
“She’s really beautiful, Cas. I was looking at her photograph out in the lobby.”  
  
The lightness in Cas’ face seemed to dull again causing Dean to wonder what he’d said to cause it. Cas scooped Rio into his arms like a security blanket and turned to face the small window looking out at the colorful foliage. “Meg took that picture last summer,” he mused, almost to himself. “She’s very talented. I wish she would apply herself more.”  
  
Dean wasn’t sure if he should take the opportunity to ask about Meg or try to talk about Jimmy. When Cas had asked him to follow into the exam room, he’d assumed Cas had wanted to tell him what had happened, but now, after ten minutes of small talk, Dean was starting to think the connection he’d imagined a few nights ago had been one-sided. He watched Cas absentmindedly card his fingers through Rio’s fluffy fur, looking lost and alone, and made the decision to be his friend. He’d done it once, he could do it again. Cas may be a caretaker with animals, but Dean was known for being much the same with people. It was something they had in common really. It only took a couple of steps before Dean was standing directly at Cas’ back. His hand ended up on Cas’ shoulder without a second thought. “Cas? How is Meg?”  
  
Dean heard Cas’ sharp inhale and felt the movement as the muscles in Cas’ shoulders tensed. He was about to apologize for crossing a line when Cas answered in a timid voice; still deep and gravelly as Dean had come to expect, but so quiet, Dean had to strain to hear him. “She’s okay, physically. She got a few scrapes on her legs when she tripped in the dark trying to run. She was very lucky.”  
  
“But?” Dean questioned, giving Cas’ shoulder a gentle squeeze.  
  
“She blames herself for leaving Jimmy.” Cas turned to face Dean and Dean could see the unshed tears glistened in Cas’ too-bright, blue eyes. “She went to go dance with a girl and that’s when the shooter…” the tears chose that moment to break free and Cas just stood there, grasping tightly to a little black and white kitten, looking almost as helpless as Rio.  
  
Dean’s heart broke for this man that he barely knew, yet he felt so connected to. Following his instincts, Dean pulled both Cas and kitten into a hug. Aware of the hitches in Cas’ breathing, Dean rubbed his hands up and down Cas’ back reassuringly. The cotton scrubs were soft under his hands. “God, I’m so sorry about your brother, Cas. I saw his name in the paper and I... Shit, you don’t even know me, but I’m so fucking sorry.”  
  
He tried to imagine losing Sam but the idea was so foreign that Dean couldn’t even fathom it. Jimmy had been Cas’ twin. They’d literally been side by side their entire lives; almost two halves of a whole. How the hell does someone even get past that? Dean felt himself squeezing tighter as he contemplated the pain his new friend must be feeling. He almost felt guilty for being so upset over Aaron. Shit, that was a walk in the goddamn park compared to what Cas was going through.  
  
Cas sniffled, and pulled back, shaking his head in what Dean assumed was an attempt to clear it. “Thank you, Dean.”  
  
“Should you even be at work?” Dean asked. He didn’t know how Cas was even functioning right now. He looked exhausted. “Isn’t there anyone who can fill in?”  
  
“Of course,” Cas answered, shifting Rio into one arm and wiping the back of his hand across his eyes. “I haven’t been here long. I needed to get away from…, being here with Missouri, um, Dr. Moseley, is a distraction.”  
  
Dean nodded. That made sense. Cas seemed to straighten his body and turn away slightly as if he were putting up a wall. “So what are we gonna do with you, little one?” he asked, looking down at the little black and white bundle in his arms.  
  
The words slipped out before Dean could even give them a second thought. “I was thinking, maybe I’d keep her after all.”  
  
He had no idea what came over him. He’d never had a pet. He was allergic to cats. Hell, he didn’t even live here in Florida. Dean was pretty sure he was crazy, but that little furball brought him back here to Cas, and something about that seemed important.  
  
Cas tilted his head to the side with a questioning look. “Are you sure, Dean? Having a pet is a big commitment.”  
  
Dean smiled and reached out to ruffle Rio behind the ears, causing a content little purr. “Yeah, I’m sure. I’ve taken a liking to the little pile of fluff.”  
  
“Well, she’s certainly taken a liking to you,” Cas said, lifting Rio carefully into Dean’s waiting arms. “Let’s take her out front and set up some records for her, then Hannah can book an appointment for vaccines, just in case she’s not up to date, and you can take her back home.”  
  
Twenty minutes later Dean was pulling out of the parking lot with a trial sized bag of cat food, a vaccine schedule, and his very own cat. He had no idea what Sam was gonna say, but for some reason, he couldn’t stop smiling.  



	4. Chapter 4

After Sam got his initial “Dean, you don’t even live here!  You’re allergic to cats!  Do you even know how to take care of a pet?  Who’s gonna take care of her when you’re traveling for work?” out of his system, he softened pretty easily to the idea of having a four-legged friend around the house.  They hadn’t discussed how long Dean planned to stay, but Dean had made himself at home enough that he suspected Sam knew he was in no rush to run back to Kansas.  Rio slipped into their daily routine with little fanfare.  Dean stocked up on non-drowsy Benadryl and the good cat food, and they put a litter box on Sam’s back porch.  Dean had a new bed partner.  This one didn’t snore and definitely didn’t cheat.  
  
Dean had made a promise to himself that he’d keep up with work while he was at Sam’s and so far he’d kept it, even though it cut into the time he was able to spend helping Sam and Eileen with relief efforts. He loved his job but processing orders for prints, answering questions about shoots, and replying to comments on his blog all seemed so trivial when surrounded by the aftermath of the tragedy. People were suffering because of what had happened, and Dean wanted to help as much as he could. His thoughts often drifted back to Cas, wondering how he was holding up.  
  
He’d known the man less than a week, but the emotional connection he felt was strong. Whatever they’d shared on that patch of grass; Dean sensed that it meant something and he couldn’t let it go.  Chances are they’d never see each other again but acknowledging it made Dean feel like he’d lost a friend.  Frustrated over his feelings and short on sleep, Dean snapped his laptop shut. He wandered into the kitchen in search of a beer.    
  
There, on the door of the fridge, was Rio’s vaccine schedule. He stared at it for a moment, hanging next to the Vet Clinic’s card behind an ‘I Heart Orlando’ magnet.  No longer feeling the beer, Dean grabbed his phone and Sam’s spare house keys.  Maybe he’d just go for a walk.    
  
Dean was just opening the back door when the bluesy sound of Zepp’s _Ramble On_ drew his attention to the buzz from his back pocket.  No doubt it would be Sam checking in.  Dean pulled out his phone and swiped the screen without looking.  “Hey.”  
  
“Uh, hello.  Is this Dean?” _  
  
_ Recognising the voice instantly, Dean came to a halt to lean against the door jam, stuffing one hand in his pocket while he used the other to hold the phone to his ear.  “Yeah, this is Dean,” he answered, hoping he didn’t sound as surprised and weirdly excited as he felt.  
  
“This is Castiel.  I hope I’m not bothering you.” _  
  
“_ Hi, Cas.  Um…no, of course not.”  Dean mentally slapped himself for stumbling again.  What was it that made him turn into a fumbling idiot whenever he started up a conversation with Cas?    
  
“That’s good.  I’m sure you’re busy.”  Cas didn’t sound so sure of himself either, and that made Dean feel a little better.   “I just called to check in and see how Rio is settling in?” _  
  
_ Ah, the cat.  Well, that made sense.  Of course, Cas was the kind of person that would follow up with the animals that were adopted out from the clinic.  Why else would he call?  
  
“She’s doin’ great, Cas,” Dean said as he made his way back into the living room, rubbing the ears of the little fluffball in question as he lowered himself beside her on the couch.  “She’s made herself right at home, trust me,” he chuckled.  
  
“I’m really glad to hear that, Dean.  I’m not surprised though.  She did seem very comfortable with you. Animals are often drawn to good people.”  
_  
_ Dean could feel the heat rise in his face causing what was no doubt a pinkish flush to his cheeks and he was glad Cas couldn’t see him.  He never was good at taking compliments.  “I’m just doing what anyone would.”  
  
“I don’t think you’re giving yourself enough credit,” Cas insisted.  “Not just what you’re doing for Rio, but what you did for me.  Not many people would put themselves out there like you did, Dean.  I’m not sure I thanked you enough for that.  I wasn’t in a good place.  I needed help and you gave it without thinking twice.  I’m not sure that qualifies as what your average Joe would do.”  
_  
_ Rio only squirmed a little as Dean cradled her into his lap and threaded his fingers into her velvet fur.  This conversation had taken a sharp right turn into a place that wasn’t comfortable and he needed something to ground him.  He pictured Cas on the grass that first night, wrapped in his oversized coat, and then a blanket, shivering with shock, patiently waiting for Jimmy and Meg to walk right out of that building.  Dean’s heart clenched at the memory and the thought that anyone could have walked away from Cas that night.  
  
“I just wish there was something I could’ve done to change the outcome, Cas,” Dean sighed, unsure how in the end, anything he’d done had really helped when in the end, Jimmy was still gone.  
  
“I miss him, Dean.  I miss him so much, but that doesn’t change the fact that you performed an incredible act of kindness that night.  You did make a difference, at least to me.” _  
  
_ “Uh…,” Dean stumbled again, “how’re you doing Cas?  I mean, really?”  Dean wasn’t sure if he should even ask, but he felt like they were moving into pretty personal territory and he really wanted to know if Cas was taking care of himself, if he was getting any sleep, if there was anything else he could do to help take the sadness away.  “You’ve got my number now, so you know…um, if you ever wanna talk, or text or something…”  
  
“I’m still sad a lot but I’m just trying to take things one day at a time.  Work is distracting.  Thank you.  You have mine now as well.” _  
  
_ Dean had assumed Cas had called from the office number.  “This isn’t your work phone?”  
  
“No, I’m actually on lunch so I looked up your number in Rio’s file and called from my cell.  I hope that’s okay?”  
_  
_ “Yeah, no problem,” Dean said, relaxing for the first time all morning.  Just the idea that he had a way to keep in contact with Cas lifted a weight he barely realized he’d been carrying.  
  
“Well, I better get back to work.  Perhaps we’ll talk again then?” _  
  
_ Dean thought Cas sounded, maybe hopeful?  “Sure, Cas.  If you need anything, you know how to find me.  Take care of yourself.”    
  
“Thank you.  Bye, Dean.” _  
  
_ Dean set the phone down on the cushion and turned his attention to the little black and white kitten.  She seemed completely content curled up in his lap, tail wrapped around her tiny body.  “What do you think, little girl?  Do you think Daddy and Cas could be friends?”  If Rio’s contented purring was anything to go by, she wholly approved of the idea.    
  
In the coming weeks, Dean turned down a couple of shoots in favor of helping Sam and Eileen.  There were volunteers needed in the aftermath of the shooting and benefits and fundraisers were popping up all over as people banded together as a community.  Sam was busy as his firm took on workplaces that refused to pay out death benefits to same-sex partners, and fought insurance companies for disability funds.  Eileen, Jo, and the rest of their team continued to refer families to services, raise money for those who had lost their children, parents, or lovers, and tried to control the backlash of fear-mongering hate groups that protested in the name of one fanatical religion or another.    
  
While Dean continued to go where he was needed, he always carried his camera.  He may not be working, but here and there something or someone would catch his eye and he would need to capture it for _Humans of Lawrence Kansas_.  Every time he sent a new photo to Charlie to upload, he felt that sense that he had shared something profound with the world.  That was the feeling he chased from his blog.  He wanted everyone to see what he saw.  There was so much beauty in even the most simple of things, it just seemed unfair to keep them all to himself when he had the ability to send them out to so many.  
  
It was that same logic that lead him to send his first text message to Cas on a hot but rainy morning while he was running some errands for Eileen in Sam’s stupid, quiet, little car.  He’d parked in an alley downtown to pick up a case of flyers from the printer for a promotional event with _One Orlando._ Just as he’d been about to hop back in the car, a mama duck with a trail of tiny ducklings following behind came splashing through the puddles not six feet away from him.  It had been a crazy morning, and the rain had just made it even more miserable, but the sight of those little ducks happily enjoying the sun showers put an instant smile on his face.  He grabbed his phone and snapped a quick picture, not exactly the quality of his regular camera, but it was pretty cute anyway, and he suddenly thought that if it made him happy it was sure to make Cas smile.  He pulled up Cas’ contact information, uploaded the photo, and clicked send.    
  
Dean regretted it almost instantly.  They hadn’t even exchanged a text yet and here he was sending Cas a photo of ducklings for fuck’s sakes.  He felt like a crushing school girl.  Apparently, he needn’t have worried; Cas’ response was both immediate and, to Dean’s relief, full of excitement.  
  
_From Cas:  Oh, Dean.  What a sweet photograph.  Thank you so much for sending it to me.  
  
_ He leaned against the car and texted back just as quickly. _  
  
From Dean:  Welcome, Cas.  How’s things?  
  
From Cas:  Getting better I suppose.  I’m happy to hear from you.  
  
_ Dean couldn’t help but grin.  The fact that he was standing in the rain had completely escaped his notice until he realized he could barely read the screen anymore once the droplets melded together into a watery puddle that completely blurred his words.  He unlocked the car door and climbed in, quickly scrubbing his phone on the car seat to dry it off.  He hoped Cas hadn’t thought he wasn’t gonna answer.  Oh my god, he really was a teenage girl.  He clunked his forehead against the steering wheel in an effort to knock some sense into himself.  Feeling slightly more composed, he leaned back in the seat and composed another text to Cas.  
  
_From Dean:  Well the ducks were pretty cute.  How’s Meg doing?  
  
_ Dean hoped he wasn’t crossing any lines by asking about Meg, I mean, it’s not like Dean even knew her, but Cas had brought her up before and Dean was genuinely interested in how she was.  It took Cas a little longer to answer this time and Dean berated himself for pushing too far.   Shit, maybe Cas didn’t want to talk about Meg.  They were texting about happy things and he had to ruin it.  Fuck.  A large chunk of text appeared on Dean’s screen.  
  
_From Cas:  I’m getting worried about her honestly.  She calls and texts me all the time now, which is fine, of course.  She doesn’t have Jimmy anymore and he was her best friend.  I think I’m the closest thing to him.  It’s nice in a way.  It’s like having part of him with me.  But she’s out all the time partying, drinking, probably drugs too.  She’s scaring me.  
  
_ The relief at Cas not being upset at the question was short-lived when Dean read the answer.  He could understand Meg and Cas becoming closer with the loss of Jimmy, that made perfect sense.  He could also see why it would cause Cas so much worry to see her struggling.  
  
_From Dean:  I’m sorry, Cas.  I hope that you being there for her and time will help her to come around.  Do you think you can get her to talk to someone?  I know my brother’s girlfriend has a lot of contacts through the group she works for.  
  
From Cas:  I’ve tried bringing it up.  She says she talks to me._  
  
Dean hoped that would be enough.  
  
_From Dean:  Well if she changes her mind…_  
  
Cas was a good person.  If he was able to connect with people the same way he did with animals, Dean had no doubt he would be able to be the friend Meg needed right now.  Dean just hoped that Cas had someone to help him through his own grief.  Somewhere in the back of his mind, in that place that was playing tug of war with his emotions, was a little voice telling him that he wanted to be that person.  Dean shook his head and checked his phone to see if Cas had answered.  The little circles were moving across the screen indicating that Cas was typing.  Soon after, a new message popped up.  
  
_From Cas:  Thank you again.  You’ve been so helpful.  I really am glad we met :)  
  
_ Dean had to grin at the happy face emoji.  He could picture Cas in his colorful scrubs with Zoe leaning into his side, leaning against the counter at Sunrise Veterinary Clinic, tapping away at his phone with a shy smile on his face.  The thought brought a genuine sense of happiness to Dean’s crappy morning.  He was pretty damn glad he’d met Cas too.  
  
_From Dean:  I sent you a pic of ducks and you liked it.  You’ll never get rid of me now ;)  
  
From Cas:  LOL I’m ok with that.  
  
_ He felt like if his smile were any bigger, his face would crack.  He hated that he had to get back to work, but he’d promised Eileen and he couldn’t let her down, not even for a laughing Cas.  
  
_From Dean:  I have to go.  I have a trunk full of flyers that aren’t gonna deliver themselves.  Take care of yourself, Cas.  
  
_ The response was immediate this time. _  
  
From Cas:  You too, Dean. :)   
  
_ The rest of the day seemed to fly by after talking to Cas.  In fact, the next few weeks all melded together into a blur of volunteering with _Equality Florida_ , hanging out with Sam and Eileen, picking up a couple of small local photo shoots, and getting to know Cas via text.   By the middle of July, Dean realized he’d been away from Kansas for a month and he hadn’t given Aaron a second thought in weeks.  It was during a Skype call to Charlie about the blog one afternoon that he was confronted with it head-on.  They’d been tossing around hits and numbers, and Charlie had been teasing Dean relentlessly about his ineptitude with most things social media, when she sat back in her gaming chair, her bright red hair tied in a haphazard ponytail, and eyed him suspiciously.  Dean knew that look.  
  
“What?” he asked her when she didn’t immediately ask him any personal questions.  “You’re looking at me funny.”  
  
“Oh, am I?” Charlie said, crossing her denim-clad legs and leaning into the computer frame, her eyes sparkling with mischief.  “I’m just wondering what’s up with you.”  
  
Dean was genuinely confused.  “Uh, nothing?”  
  
Charlie shook her head and her hair tumbled out of its loose fastening to fall around her face, making her look much younger than her twenty-six years.  People often underestimated Charlie because of her looks, but Dean knew better.  “You look happy.  Your boyfriend cheated on you a month ago, and yet you don’t look sad at all, you look happier than I’ve seen you in quite a while actually.  What gives?”  
  
As Charlie’s words sank in, Dean knew she was right.  He didn’t miss Aaron at all.  He was happy and content in Orlando.  He felt as if he were making a difference and he enjoyed spending time with his brother and Eileen.  He’d missed Sam and he felt like they were working together on something that was bigger than themselves.  And then there was Cas.  Dean’s lips tugged into a small smile as he considered the little quirky text messages that were becoming a daily occurrence between them.  He looked forward to their banter and he couldn’t help but count down the days to Rio’s next vet appointment so he’d have an excuse to see Cas in person.  
  
“Earth to Dean.”  
  
Charlie’s voice snapped him out of his thoughts.  
  
“Hey, where did you go just now?  You looked like you were off in Narnia or something.  Must’ve been pretty nice there,” Charlie teased, and Dean could feel the blush heating his cheeks.  He ran his hand back through his hair.  “Just thinking.”  
  
“Look at you all blushy.  You’ve met someone, that’s why you’re daydreaming like a schoolgirl.  Spill, Dean.”  
  
Dammit.  Dean had been best friends with Charlie for a long time and he knew she could be relentless. Once she sunk her teeth into something she wouldn’t let it go until she got what she wanted.  
  
“Alright, alright,” Dean conceded, “I’ve been talking to someone, but we’re just friends.”  
  
Charlie raised a questioning eyebrow making Dean feel the need to defend himself.  He adjusted the laptop screen and took a sip of the coffee that had been steadily growing cold on the coffee table throughout their conversation.    
  
“Honestly, Charlie, Cas and I really are only friends.”  
  
“Hey, Charlie! Who’s Cas?” Sam’s voice interrupted from behind the couch.  Dean had been so lost in his own bubble he hadn’t even heard his brother come home.  
  
“Sam!” Charlie’s tinny voice squealed through the laptop speakers.  “That’s exactly what I’m trying to find out, but Dean’s being all secretive.”  
  
Dean sputtered on a sip of coffee.  “I’m _not_ being secretive, guys.  Way to gang up on a dude.”  
  
“Well is she hot?  I mean, these things are important, you know, for science,” Charlie grinned.  
  
Sam was clearly interested in the answer to the same question.  He clambered both of his long legs over the back of the couch and settled in next to Dean.  Dean sighed.  There was no reason to keep Cas a secret from Charlie and Sam, in fact, he wasn’t sure why he hadn’t talked about Cas sooner, it just seemed like something he’d needed to keep close to his chest.  He glanced at the screen where his best friend looked at him expectantly, and then over to his brother’s waiting eyes.  
   
Dean couldn’t help the groan that left his throat.  He knew exactly the kind of science Charlie attributed to hot women.  “ _He_ is very attractive, yes, Charlie, but so not the point.  What part of _just_ _friends_ , did you miss?”  
  
“Ahhh,” Charlie replied nodding.  “So Cas isn’t short for Cassandra, it’s short for?”  
  
“Castiel,” Dean supplied.  
  
“What kind of name is that?” Sam asked, unhelpfully.  
  
“I don’t know, Sam.  Why don’t you call his mother and ask her?” Dean snapped, starting to get frustrated.    
  
Charlie, clearly picking up on the fact that Dean was becoming uncomfortable with the teasing, chose to tone it down.  ‘Sorry, Dean.  You know we’re just giving you a hard time.  Hey, if this Castiel dude keeps you smiling how you were a few minutes ago, I don’t care what his name is or how friendly you are, he’s a keeper in my book.  How did you meet him anyway?”  
  
“I actually met him the night of the shooting.  His twin brother died.”  
  
He didn’t miss the look of first shock and then utter sadness that crossed Charlie’s face.  Sam was a little more immune having been dealing with the loss and destruction first hand for the past month but Dean could still tell he was trying to school his features.  
  
“Oh my god, I’m so sorry, Dean.  That must be awful for him,” Charlie blurted out, her eyes brimmed with unshed tears.  
  
“Hey,” Sam said, placing his hand on Dean’s knee,” is that the man you sat with the whole time we were downtown?  I meant to ask you about him and then completely forgot about it again until now.”  
  
Dean nodded.  “Yeah, that’s Cas.  He was in total shock that night, even before he found out about Jimmy – that’s his brother.  Turns out he works as a Vet Tech at that clinic you sent me to with Rio.”  
  
As if she heard her name, the little fluffball in question appeared out of nowhere and wound her way around Dean’s ankles.  He looked down at her fondly, remembering how easily he’d made the decision to bring her back home with him that day.  
  
Sam glanced between the kitten and Dean.  “Wow.  That’s so crazy that you reconnected with him like that.  How is he doing?”  
  
“A little better,” Dean answered, reaching down to ruffle between Rio’s ears.  “He’s still got a lot to work through though.”  
  
“He’s got you, Dean,” Charlie chimed in.  “He’ll be just fine.”  
  
Dean hoped Charlie was right.  It was only after logging off of Skype and setting off for an afternoon of volunteering with Sam, that he sent a quick _‘How is your day going?’_ message to Cas.  As he waited for Cas reply, he realized that he cared a lot about how Cas was.  A whole lot.  
  
  
  



	5. Chapter 5

Dean tossed his third button-down on the bed, narrowly missing Rio when it landed on the pile with the other two. He looked at the disgruntled kitten and he was fairly sure he could see judgment in her eyes.    
  
“Okay, okay, I like him,” he confessed. It felt good to say it out loud, even if he was only admitting it to his cat.    
  
During the days leading up to the appointment for Rio’s vaccinations, Dean and Cas had texted regularly throughout the day, often into the evenings and Dean was beginning to realize just how attracted to Cas he was. Cas was intelligent and quietly funny, and Dean often found himself losing track of time during their lengthy typed out conversations about anything and everything. Now, the morning he was gonna see Cas again for the first time in over a month, he was anxious as fuck.  
  
His clothing options weren’t that varied. He’d added a few things to the limited supply he’d packed in his suitcase to come to Sam’s, but nothing felt right to take Rio to the vet clinic. Dean knew he was being ridiculous, and that Cas probably wouldn’t even notice what shirt he wore, but for some reason, he felt like a teenager on prom night.  
  
Eventually settling on khaki cargo shorts, a plain black tee, and a pale green button-down, Dean ran his fingers through his hair one last time and scooped a surprised Rio into his arms. “Let’s go shedder, this time you get to ride in style.” Dean had found a pink cat carrier at the thrift store a couple of blocks from Sam’s place one day when he was out exploring the neighborhood. He’d bought it on the spot, knowing his little girl would be safer in Sam’s car that way. The fact that she’d look super cute poking her nose out of the little pink plastic crate hadn’t crossed his mind at all, of course. Rio wasn’t as enthusiastic as Dean about the whole idea, but with the promise of some fishy shaped treats, Dean managed to coax her into her new ride.  
  
The vet clinic was much busier than the previous time Dean had been there. There was a couple up at the counter, with a large hairy dog on a leash, talking to Hannah, and a couple of ladies, with cats in crates similar to Rio’s, sitting in the waiting area. Dean took a seat near them, setting Rio down beside his legs, and nodded hello. Noticing the tension he was carrying in his body as he waited, Dean smoothed his palms over his thighs and forced his legs to be still, rather than bouncing in anticipation.  
  
It wasn’t long before Hannah came over to usher him into another exam room that was set up very similarly to the one he and Cas had been in the last time he’d visited.   Figuring Rio was likely tired of her little pink prison, Dean popped the latch so that she could roam free.   Within seconds a little pink nose poked its way through the open crate and sniffed, unsure of the strange smells, but curious enough to adventure further. By the time the door to the room opened, Rio was already halfway across the room, heading towards the counter that held the jar with the treats.  
  
Dean turned his head to greet Cas and was surprised to see a heavy-set woman with sparkling dark eyes and a white lab coat smiling up at him instead of the man that had been invading his thoughts for weeks. Trying not to let the shock of disappointment show on his face, Dean straightened his shoulders and smiled at the doctor, holding out his hand to shake. “Uh, hi.   I’m…”  
  
“…Dean Winchester,” the doctor finished for him. She grasped his hand in both of hers and cradled it gently before turning it over and ran her well-lined fingers over his palm as she spoke in a soft southern twang. “Our Castiel has spoken well of you. I suspect you’re plenty disappointed that it was me that came through that door and not him. Well never you mind, child. You’ll see him soon enough.” The odd woman reached down to scoop up the wide-eyed kitten from off the floor. “Name’s Missouri, by the way, Doctor Missouri Moseley, and this little love must be Rio.”  
  
Dean nodded, mesmerized by Dr. Moseley. She wasn’t at all what Dean had expected, but yet Dean couldn’t help but like her. She had a calming peace about her, which Rio also seemed to sense. The kitten was purring louder than Dean had ever heard her, even with him. Dr. Moseley set Rio on the metal table and withdrew a couple of syringes from her coat pocket. “Well let’s get this little girl her shots so you and Castiel can get on with your lunch date.”  
  
“Lunch date?” Dean asked, getting more confused by the minute. “I think you’ve misunderstood something.  Cas and I don’t have a lunch date.”  
  
Dr. Moseley shook her head and laughed, which was a sound all of itself – like a perfect set of wind chimes in a gentle breeze. “Of course you do, boy. I gave Castiel the afternoon off especially. I needed to come and check you out myself first though, you understand.” Dean nodded again, lost for words, just going along with whatever Dr. Moseley said. He’d never met anyone like her. Dr. Moseley quickly poked Rio, the kitten not even noticing the vaccination, and then gave her a handful of kibble. “Look how good she is,” she cooed, glancing up at Dean. "You’ve got a sweet little one here, you make sure you take care of her, Dean Winchester, and my Castiel too.” Dean opened his mouth to answer, but before he had the chance, the doctor had already let herself out of the room.  
  
Scooping up Rio and reaching down to grab the crate, Dean wondered what the fuck had just happened? He didn’t know if he had just been royally pranked or if he was actually going for lunch with Cas. Shaking his head, he turned towards the door and almost ran straight into Hannah. This was just getting better and better. “Hi Dean. Dr. Moseley asked me to watch Rio for a while. She said you had lunch plans.”  
  
It was starting to feel like a conspiracy. He had to wonder if Cas knew what was going on or if he was as in the dark as Dean was. He wordlessly handed the kitten and the crate over to Hannah who smiled and turned to leave the small room. Not knowing what else to do, Dean opted to just follow the young receptionist into the waiting area. As they passed the open door of the other exam room, Dean could see Dr. Moseley talking with Cas. Dean stopped just shy of Hannah’s desk and told himself he wouldn’t peek over at the conversation he could still just see, but curiosity got the best of him. He could just make out Cas’ mop of dark hair as his head stooped to converse with the shorter woman at eye level. He watched as Dr. Moseley leaned in to cup her palms tenderly around Cas’ cheeks. Dean could imagine whatever gentle words she felt the need to impart in her lilting voice and he, once again, was reminded how much Cas seemed to have people who really cared about him.  
  
When he saw Dr. Moseley pat Cas on the shoulder and step back, Dean turned his head. Even though he hadn’t heard what they’d talked about, he didn’t feel right snooping.    Cas’ footsteps gave away the man’s approach. “Hello, Dean.” Cas said, and Dean felt the deep rasp of Cas’ voice wash over him. Dean took in Cas’ lightly stubbled jaw and his tanned, firm arms and there was no mistaking his attraction to him. It almost made him feel guilty when Cas so clearly could use a friend. ‘Someone who just lost their brother, does not need some dude they barely know drooling all over them. Pull yourself together, Dean,’ he chided himself.  
  
“Hey, Cas. Where’s your four-legged friend today?” Dean managed to choke out before he commented on the stunning blue of Cas’ eyes or something equally mortifying.  
  
“Meg came by and took her for a run,” Cas replied with a genuine smile. “She’s going to drop Zoe off here when she gets tired.”  
  
Dean thought that sounded great for both Zoe and Meg and he said as much. Cas nodded, clearly agreeing.    
  
“So…,” both Cas and Dean started at the same time and then burst out laughing at the awkwardness of both of them trying not to be awkward. It was Cas that finally broke the ice.  
  
“Missouri gave me the afternoon off and told me I should take you for lunch. She has Hannah keeping an eye on Rio.”  
  
“That’s what I’ve been told,” Dean answered, still grinning. “I get the impression that Dr. Moseley’s orders are not often questioned around here.”  
  
“Oh, you have no idea,” Cas replied, giving Dean’s arms a gentle tug and heading towards the double doors where the midday sunshine was casting a rainbow arc on the cork floor from the cut glass. Let’s get out of here before she changes her mind. “Burgers okay?”  
  
“Burgers are the best suggestion I’ve heard in a long time, Cas. Lead the way.”  
  
As it turned out, Cas’ favorite burger place was on the next corner and Dean loved it as soon as they opened the door. It had a similar vibe to one of his haunts back in Kansas.   A momentary wave of homesickness pass over him as he dragged himself into one of the plastic covered seats, but it passed just as quickly when he looked across the table at his dining companion. Nope, Benny couldn’t hold a candle to Cas, no matter how much Dean suspected his friend had a bit of a crush on him. Kansas and his friends had barely been a fleeting thought since Dean had arrived in Florida. But, that was something Dean had sealed up in one of his ‘deal with that later’ boxes which was stored in the ‘inch thick layer of dust’ corner of his brain.  
  
“This place is awesome,” Dean commented as he took in his surroundings. The owners had really played up the 50’s soda shop theme. The floor was black and white checkered tile, shiny enough that you could almost see your reflection when you looked down. The seats and tables were bright candy apple red, and the counters and fixtures were shiny chrome, reflecting the sunlight pouring in through the curtained windows.   Each table had a personal jukebox with hits from Buddy Holly to Elvis and the menu was perfect diner food – shakes, hot dogs, burgers, and fries. There wasn’t a kale salad or a tofu wrap to be seen. Poor Sammy would starve. Dean couldn’t stop smiling at the cheesiness of it all. He loved it!  
  
Cas seemed to preen a little at Dean’s compliment. Dean wondered if he was as anxious to make a good impression as Dean himself was. If that was his plan, he was off to a damn good start. The idea that Cas might also be nervous put Dean’s mind at ease and he relaxed into the vinyl booth. “So, tell me what’s good here.”  
  
“Everything, and I’m actually not kidding. Pretty sure Jimmy and I tried the entire menu at least once and it’s all delicious. This was one of his favorite places.”  
  
Cas had a wistful, faraway look in his eyes, but Dean wouldn’t describe it as sad exactly. “Is it hard to go to places that bring back strong memories of him?” he asked, curious why Cas had decided specifically to bring him here if it was a place he associated so much with his brother.  
  
It took Cas a minute to answer, as if he needed to formulate his thoughts before responding. “Sometimes places evoke a feeling of sadness and they make me miss him tremendously, so those places, at least for now, I tend to avoid.” Cas took a deep breath and his eyes flickered up to meet Dean’s before settling back down again on the menu. “This place makes me feel safe. Thing is, I’m not sure if it’s the location or the company.”  
  
Dean’s mouth felt like someone had stuffed it with cotton balls dipped in baby powder. He tried to open it to say something, but it just came out as a dry puff of air every time. The longer he sat there silent, the more the light in Cas’ eyes seemed to fade. The server chose that moment to come and take their order, bringing large glasses of ice water that had Dean salivating. She placed them on the table and Dean had his half gone before she even spoke.  
  
“You boys know what you’re in the mood for today?”  
  
Cas nodded and quietly asked for a mushroom and swiss burger with onion rings and a vanilla milkshake. Dean swallowed, hopping the cottonmouth was gone.  
  
“I’ll take a bacon and cheddar burger with steak fries and a strawberry shake, please,” he managed to choke out.  
  
“You bet!” the cheery woman said as she leaned down to pick up their menus. As her bottle-bleached, hair passed in front of Dean’s face, he noted that she was clearly much older than she'd appeared at a distance. He supposed trying to look younger was part of the game, earning you more tips. It was a shame. The woman was really quite beautiful and he suspected she was even more so without all the extra layers of make-up. As the server took the menus away, Dean was back to looking at Cas, who appeared less comfortable than he had before. Dean didn’t know quite how to fix what he’d obviously already fucked up.  
  
“Cas,” he started, and then stopped to lean in and put his hand on his friend’s arm. He always found it easier to talk feelings when he had someone grounding him with a touch. “Most of the pictures I take are of people. I don’t know why, but for some reason, I feel like I can see behind what they’re showing the world.” Cas looked confused, and Dean knew he wasn’t explaining it very well. “Look, it’s not like I have ESP or anything or I can read people’s minds, I don’t really know how to describe it.”  
  
“I think Missouri would say that you’re an empath,” Cas volunteered. “You have a way with people; which explains the way you can see what they’re feeling. Your choice of career works well with that. It also makes sense that you came to me that night of the shooting. You felt drawn to me because I needed you, and that’s why I feel safe with you.”  
  
Dean hadn’t heard it explained that way before but it made perfect sense. Empathic, yes. He took photographs of people, trying to capture what he felt when he looked at them. When he posted the pictures on his _Humans of Lawrence Kansas_ blog, he hoped those that took the time to look, really look, would see what he saw. He knew from the comments people left, that some people did.  
  
“I’m glad you feel safe with me Cas,” Dean said, squeezing Cas’ arm just as the server walked over with their food. “Damn, that looks awesome!” he said, leaning back to give her room to put his burger and fries down.  
  
Dean and Cas made small talk as they dug into their lunch, learning more about each other – their pasts, their families, their likes, and dislikes. Their burgers were long finished and forgotten, along with one of the best slices of cherry pie Dean had ever eaten, yet they couldn’t seem to stop talking. Dean loved the way Cas laughed deeply when he told a silly tale about something he and Sam had done as kids, and Dean couldn’t get enough of the stories Cas told of Zoe’s antics at the veterinary hospital. It was, by far, one of the most enjoyable afternoons Dean had spent in a long time.  
  
It occurred to Dean, as he sat watching the little creases in the corners of Cas’ eyes crinkle as he laughed, that this was the first time since June that he didn’t feel guilty for having fun. The times he’d been out with Sam, Eileen, and their friends, there was always that undercurrent of solemnity that no one mentioned, but everyone knew was there.  He hoped, for Cas’ sake especially, that that meant that they were beginning to heal.  
  
When Cas suggested they walk over to the dog park after they left the diner, Dean was quietly thrilled. He had no plans, and he couldn’t think of anything he’d rather do than extend his afternoon with Cas. After a quick text to the clinic to confirm that Meg hadn’t returned yet with Zoe, they were soon strolling side by side on a quiet residential street heading for green space a few blocks away. The afternoon sun was heavy in the sky, causing beads of sweat to settle at Dean’s hairline and the nape of his neck. Cas didn’t seem to be faring much better and Dean could see the dampness darkening the collar of his shirt. Neither of them spoke, seemingly both lost in their own thoughts after several hours of near constant conversation.  
  
Cas slowed to push his shades back up the bridge of his nose where the perspiration had them sliding down almost comically. Dean turned with a grin, ready to joke with his friend about the heat when Cas’ fingers brushed his as Cas lowered his arm. Dean wasn’t prepared for the spark of desire that ignited at that single touch. Fuck. What the hell, man. He needed to get himself together. Cas was his friend and he didn’t need to be messing that up. His eyes darted to Cas’, looking for any sign that Cas had picked up on his reaction, but all Dean saw was intense blue. He pulled back his arm in a panic, and took one step back, putting himself clearly into _friend zone,_ and pushed the sweat off his brow with his open hand.  
  
“So, how much further is this park,” he fumbled, hoping he didn’t sound like too much of an idiot.  
  
“Just another block,” Cas replied, sounding clipped and less enthusiastic than he had when he’d made the original suggestion. Dean hoped it was the heat that had dampened Cas’ mood and not Dean’s behavior, but without drawing attention to himself, he had no way of knowing.    
  
The park was quiet and there was a welcome gentle breeze that made Dean suspect that there may be a small lake nearby. A few young parents mulled around with their little ones and Dean could see a few dogs chasing whatever distant ball or Frisbee their humans had tossed for them. He made his way over to a picnic bench tucked under a well spread tree, hoping a little shade would put the smile back on Cas’ face. Cas sat down on the bench beside him and Dean sighed softly as they both looked out over the park.   A little girl – maybe three years old – with long blonde hair and a chocolate-stained t-shirt, stumbled into view dragging a reluctant basset hound on a blue leash. Dean heard Cas gasp and turned his head in time to see the smile spread across Cas’ face. Dean was in awe of that beautiful, gummy smile, and eternally thankful to the little girl who caused it.  
  
He turned back to the child and her dog when Cas actually laughed out loud before asking. “I wonder what she’s saying to him?”  
  
Dean shook his head, unable to contain his own laughter as he watched the little girl sitting on the grass opposite the exhausted dog, pointing her finger at him and chatting away. They were too far to hear her, but it was easy to imagine that she was telling him off for being too slow or tripping over his ears.  
  
“I could come up with so many things,” Dean answered with a low chuckle, suddenly wishing he could preserve the moment for his blog. “I wish I had my camera.”  
  
“What would you write for the caption on the photo if you took one?”  
  
“I would go speak to her Mom,” Dean had seen the little girl’s mother sit down on a bench nearby. “I’d need her permission to take the pictures first anyway, and I’d just talk to her for a bit. When I talk to someone, I can get a sense for what they’re feeling; that, along with what they tell me gives me an idea what to write.”  
  
Cas nodded, taking in what Dean was saying. Dean took in the redness around Cas’ ears and the way he was scrunching his fists and thought he looked…embarrassed. “I uh, like to make up stories. About animals, and people, well…both together really.”  
  
The confusion must’ve shown on Dean’s face because Cas continued. “I hear so much background about the animals at work from their families. It’s one of the best parts of my job.” That smile Dean loved was back as Cas talked. “I love hearing about camping trips, and how Fluffy is scared of the vacuum, and Rover ate Dad’s shoes. I guess at some point, I began writing them down, and then I started making up tales about the pets I see other places as well.”  
  
Dean couldn’t help but grin so hard his teeth ached. Cas’ happiness was infectious, and such a turnaround from when they’d first arrived at the park. “That’s actually really cool, Cas.”

“I’m not sure they’re that good though.”  
  
“I bet they’re awesome!   I’d love to read them, uh…that’s if you don’t mind,” Dean asked, hopefully.  
  
“Yeah, maybe.”  
  
They were interrupted by a fluffy brown and white blur smacking head first into Cas’ knees, butt wiggling and tail wagging. The excited dog was followed by a petite brunette in grey shorts and a black tank top, looking out of breath and a little ticked off. She bent over at the waist, with her hands planted above her knees, and her hair falling in a curtain in front of them, before tilting her head to talk to Cas.  
  
“Does she listen to anyone but you, Cas? Seriously?”  
  
“Uh, hi Meg. This is Dean,” Cas said, nodding his head in Dean’s direction while still petting an excited Zoe.  
  
“Hey, Meg.” Dean said, just as Meg pulled herself up and looked him up and down. She was clearly doing her own version of Dr. Moseley’s ‘checking him out’ and it was much less comfortable.    
  
“Hey, yourself,” Meg replied, twisting Zoe’s purple leash around her arm as she spoke. “I’ve heard quite a bit about you from Clarence here.”  
  
“Clarence?” Dean turned and mouthed to his friend. Cas just shook his head so Dean made a mental note to ask about it another time.  
  
Dean turned his attention back to Meg. She was Cas’ friend, so he was determined to make a good impression. “Well I hope he’s leaving out all the gory details,” Dean said with a smirk, hoping a little charm would get him in Meg’s good graces.  
  
Meg either didn’t have a reply or didn’t think Dean’s comment warranted one because she just smiled at Dean then turned to Cas. “Thanks for lending me, Zoe.” Meg leaned down to kiss Cas softly on the cheek – a complete contrast to the iciness she had just shown Dean, handed Cas the leash, and started jogging off in the direction she had come.  
  
Cas turned to Dean almost immediately. “I’m sorry Meg was so short with you. I don’t know what got into her.”  
  
Dean just shrugged. “I think she’s just being overprotective. Makes sense really, considering…” Dean let his words trail off, not wanting to bring up Jimmy. Not wanting to remind Cas that both he and Meg had just lost the most important person in their world and Meg was just keeping Cas on a tight leash right now. He’d do the same thing, although maybe not with as much attitude; then again…  
  
They slipped into a comfortable silence. Dean could make out the distance sounds of dogs barking and the Mom from the bench calling to her daughter. “Claire, time to take Rufus home now.” Claire jumped up and tugged on Rufus’ leash. The dog clambered to his giant feet and followed dutifully behind his little friend.  
  
“I guess I should get back too,” Cas mumbled finally. “I need to check in at the clinic before heading home.”  
  
The walk back didn’t take long. Zoe kept them both laughing with her antics. Dean took a liking to her right away and the feeling seemed to be mutual. She would try to walk right in front of both of them, only succeeding in tripping one or the other, sending them sprawling into each other’s space. By the time they reached the clinic, and Sam’s car, both Dean, and Cas were sweating from laughing so hard.  
  
Dean bent down to give Zoe a rub. “You take care of your daddy, sweet girl. He’s a good one.” He could feel himself blushing furiously as he stood up. Crap, he needed to watch it.    
  
Evidently having seen them walk up, Hannah came out of the clinic with Rio, tucked in her crate, fast asleep. “Thanks for keeping an eye on her,” he said as she walked over and handed him the pink bundle reluctantly.    
  
Hannah shrugged her shoulders and waved before heading back inside. “It was my pleasure. She’s an angel,” she called out.  
  
Cas stood casually beside the Prius with Zoe brushing against him and Dean couldn’t help but notice again how beautiful he was with his sweat spiked hair and bright eyes. “Thanks for today, Cas.”  
  
Cas laughed. “Pretty sure it’s Missouri you need to thank for that. I found out about it two minutes after you did.”  
  
“Well you got a point there,” Dean conceded. “I’ll be sure to do that. Seriously though, it was a pretty awesome afternoon – the best I’ve had in quite a while, actually.”  
  
“I agree, Dean,” Cas said with a gummy smile. “I enjoy spending time with you. It’s amazing how quickly I forget everything else that’s going on.” Cas gave Zoe’s leash a gentle tug and turned towards the door. Just as Dean was about to unlock the car, Cas turned back around. “Text me later?” he asked, with a genuine smile.  
  
“Of course,” Dean replied, looking forward to it already.  
  
Once again Dean found himself driving away from Sunrise Animal Hospital with Rio purring softly beside him on the seat. Once again, he couldn’t stop smiling. And, once again, he thought he was fighting a losing battle trying to contain his growing feelings for Cas. He was so completely fucked!


	6. Chapter 6

Cas’ fingertips danced along Dean’s heated skin like pinpricks of electricity, sending charges of desire straight to Dean’s groin.  His hips rocked, searching for friction against his already leaking cock.  “God, yes,” he murmured, internally pleading with Cas to increase the pressure, maybe take him into that warm, wet mouth and swallow him down.  Dean was close as he twisted his fingers into the balled up sheets.  He just needed to look up into those crystalline blue eyes and he knew he’d be done for.  The steady rhythmic tap and guitar riff of _Zeppelin_ in the background had him reaching for his peak as he frotted into the mattress, crying out as he came to the sound of his ringing phone and the realization that he’d just come all over his sheets dreaming about sex with Cas.  Dean grabbed his phone in one hand while he hastily tried to wipe himself off on the top sheet with the other and clumsily swiped the screen with his thumb.  
  
“What?” he grumbled into the offending device.  
  
“What crawled up your ass and died, brother?” came a thick Cajun drawl from the other end of the line.  “I didn’t interrupt a walk of shame, did I?”  
  
“Fuck you, Ben.” Dean managed to reply.  He loved his friend Benny, but his off-color banter could be a little over the top sometimes and Dean wasn’t in the mood for his bullshit.  
  
“Hey, hey,” Benny placated, and Dean could picture him with his bright smile, messy whiskers, and hands up in the air.  “It’s all good.  I come in peace.  Bad morning?”  
  
Dean considered the question.  Had it been bad?  Not so much.  Fuck, it had been pretty damn awesome until he’d woken up and realized it had all been a figment of his overactive imagination.  And, of course, Benny had had to choose that exact moment to call after a couple of months of radio silence.  Dean took a deep breath, inhaled the combined scents of lavender from the air fresheners Sam insisted on using, and arousal from his recent activities, and turned back to the phone.  
  
“No, it’s fine.  Sorry, man.  You just woke me out of a rough dream.  Long-time no hear, my friend.”  
  
“Phones work both ways, brother,” Benny replied with a characteristic chuckle.  Dean figured he should probably schedule some catch-up time with Benny when he wasn’t sitting naked in his own dried come.  He’d gotten a lot of it off with the sheet, but what was left was starting to get pretty damn itchy.   
  
“You’re right, I’m just as guilty,” Dean said, scratching aimlessly at the inside of his thigh, groaning at the gritty substance catching under his fingernails.  “So, I’m gonna hit the shower, maybe grab a cup of coffee and some grub, and I’ll give you a shout back.  How does that sound?”   
  
“Yeah, you got it,” Benny answered.  “I got a pot of gumbo browning anyway, so I’ll get that mixed and ready to go and catch you in a few hours.”  
  
“Thanks, man,” Dean said, sincerely, before hitting the send button to end the call.  He had to admit, he’d missed his friend and had to wonder why he hadn’t been in touch since he’d left Kansas.  Benny owned the diner down the street from Charlie’s place.  Dean and Charlie had discovered the hole in the wall Cajun eatery on a rainy afternoon when they’d been just starting up _Humans of Lawrence Kansas_.  Caught in a downpour looking for a place for a quick sandwich break, they’d stumbled in, soaked to the bone.  A soul-warming bowl of Benny’s traditional Louisiana gumbo and a shrimp Po’ boy each later, they were hooked on both the amazing food and the charismatic owner.   
  
Dean thoughts stayed with his friends as he grabbed a worn cotton Smash Bros. shirt, a pair of loose gym shorts, and some black boxer briefs from the dresser, and wandered down the hall to the guest bathroom in his Dad’s old grey robe.  After shedding the robe and fiddling with the faucet, Dean stepped under the therapeutic spray.  As the warm water cascaded down his body, washing with it the cobwebs of sleep and the final evidence of his semi-nocturnal fantasies, he considered the now almost four months he’d been away and wondered if he was running out of excuses.  
  
Saturday mornings broke up the monotony of the routine Dean had found himself falling into since bulldozing into his brother’s life.  Sam might have to go into the office at some point over the weekend, but he wasn’t up and out the door as the sun was breaking the horizon like on weekdays.  Dean relished in the chance to make breakfast for Sam like he had when they were kids, and take the time to shoot the breeze about their respective weeks over coffee and bacon.  
  
Rio was right on Dean’s heels as he made his way barefoot to the pantry; her lithe, teenaged body ready to wrap around his naked ankles should he pause for more than a few seconds in the procurement of her breakfast.  Once Rio’s favorite organic, shredded tuna cat food had been spooned into her dainty ceramic bowl, next to her grain free kibble, Dean was finally free to work on something for himself and Sam.  By the time his brother wandered into the kitchen, hair dripping down his shoulders from the shower, the smell of fresh coffee and warm maple syrup had the kitchen smelling much like one of the many roadside diners they’d frequented growing up.  It smelled like comfort – like home.  
  
“Something smells good,” Sam said as he easily reached past Dean for the coffee pot.  “I’m gonna have to go for an extra-long run sometime this weekend to burn off whatever artery clogging goodness you’ve got going on here.”  
  
Dean shuddered at the thought.  He didn’t mind the occasional trip to the gym, and he was a pretty active guy, but running he just didn’t get – not unless something was chasing you.  “You do that, Sammy.  Make sure you misplace my invite, okay?”  
  
Sam chuckled as he heaped a plate with maple French toast, bacon, and maple glazed apple slices and took a seat at the island.  “Don’t worry, you weren’t on the guest list.” He forked a healthy bite of French toast and apple into his mouth, using the back of his hand to wipe the excess syrup from the corner before asking, “What’s with the fancy grub anyway?”  
  
Dean wasted no time digging into his own breakfast, picking up a piece of bacon and crunching it down until his teeth bumped his fingers, then licking the grease off with a pop.  “No reason.  Just nice to cook for you for once.  You’re always running out the door in the morning with one of those green things you blend up.”  Dean wrinkled his nose at the thought of liquid, neon-green breakfast food.  “Can’t live on pureed baby shit, Sam.  S’not healthy.”  
  
Sam shook his head and went back to his breakfast, which Dean was pleased to see he was shoveling down at an alarming rate.  Since clearly, Sam wasn’t leaving the table in the foreseeable future, Dean figured it was as good a time as any to bring up some of the things he’d been reflecting on earlier that morning.  He wiped the remaining bacon grease from his fingers with the dishtowel he’d left on the counter, and washed his food down with a swig of strong coffee.  Dean glanced up at his brother and smiled at the mop of half-dry hair hanging over Sam’s plate as he attacked his food with a fervor.  Fuck!  When did he get old enough to be a lawyer?  Sometimes Dean couldn’t even process how the years had just fallen away.  Sam must’ve felt Dean’s stare, because he looked up, swallowing the bite of apple he’d been chewing.  “What?  Do I have food on my face or something.”  
  
“Uh, I know you were talking about asking Eileen to move in,” Dean said, rubbing the back of his neck at the phantom prickle that always seemed to settle there when he was feeling flustered, “is my being here, ya know, stopping that from happening, or anything?”  There was no way Dean wanted to stand in the way of Sam’s happiness.  
  
“Of course not!” Sam answered, quickly and sincerely.  
  
“You sure, Sammy?  I mean, I’ve been here a while.”  
  
Sam had that look, the one that told Dean that the eye roll would be next.  “Dean.  I know why you came here originally, and I get some of the reasons you’ve stayed.  Whatever the others are, I know that you’ll work through them.”  Sam had that earnest puppy expression that Dean knew meant he was being the super supportive little brother.  “However long you need to stay here to do that, you’re welcome, no questions asked.”  
  
Dean couldn’t help but point out that Sam had still missed the point.  “But…”  
  
“But, nothing.  Eileen and I already talked about her moving in.  Right now she’s still processing a lot of casework from the Pulse shooting and distributing raised funds.  She’s putting in a lot of overtime and her place is closer to her office.  Once things settle a little more for her, we’ll revisit.”  Dean nodded.  He supposed that made sense.  “Either way,” Sam continued, “you being here won’t stop that from happening, so don’t worry.”  
  
Dean could feel some of the knots in his shoulder slowly release as one of the things that had been plaguing his mind was settled.  He clasped Sam’s shoulder as he rose to pick up their breakfast plates and gave it a grateful squeeze.  “Thanks, man.”  
  
“You’re welcome, Dean,” Sam answered, his smile reaching his eyes, reflecting a softness that Dean recognized as genuine love and support. Someone raised that kid right, he thought, and mentally patted himself on the back.  
  
“What are your plans for the weekend?” Sam asked.   
  
Dean held up the coffee pot and Sam nodded.  Dean inhaled the rich smell as he refilled first Sam’s mug and then his own.  “I was hoping you could give me a ride to the airport tonight actually.  It’s con season.  I have to meet Charlie in Vegas.”  
  
“Ahhh, the gathering of the nerds,” Sam teased, tipping his head back and laughing when Dean flipped him off in response.   
  
“Like you wouldn’t fit right in, bitch.”  
  
“I prefer my nerds minus the cosplay, jerk,” Sam replied, his attempt at stifling his laughter resulting in a snort that just made Dean smirk even more.   
  
“The fact that you know what that is just proves my point, Sammy.  Anyway, I’m shooting all day tomorrow, so I booked a red-eye hoping to crash through it with the help of my friend Xanax.”  
  
“What time do you need to head to the airport,” Sam asked, apparently choosing to ignore Dean’s fear of flying this time.  Dean was thankful for the reprieve.  
  
“Flight leaves at 11:10, so around 10 should be good,” Dean said before turning and loading the last of the cutlery into the dishwasher and grabbing a rag to wipe down the countertop.  He felt his phone buzz in his pocket, just as he turned back to Sam.  “I can call a cab if you’ve got plans with Eileen already.”  
  
“Nope,” Sam replied with a laugh.  “They’re having a girl’s night tonight with Jo and her sister.  I’m not privy to the details.”  
  
“Sounds ominous,” Dean replied with a chuckle.  He felt his phone buzz again – probably Benny getting impatient.  “Well her loss is my gain, I suppose.”  
  
Dean finally pulled his phone out of his pocket to see two texts from Cas.  The corners of his mouth rose on instinct, unable to do anything but smile when he heard from his friend.  He padded into the living room and reclined on the couch, crossed his bare feet on the arm, and shuffled his body until he felt cocooned and comfortable, before swiping the screen in anticipation.  
  
_From Cas:  Good morning, Dean_ _J_  
  
Dean thought the happy face emoji was pretty adorable.  
  
_From Cas:  I hope I’m not disturbing your breakfast._  
  
Cas’ texts habitually began in that formal way, like he was worried he was bothering Dean.  Dean was always happy to hear from Cas.  Clearly, that message wasn’t getting through.  Dean tapped to pull up the keyboard and starting typing.  
  
_From Dean:  Hey Cas.  You can text anytime_ _J_  
  
Dean hoped that adding the smiley at the end would help Cas to realize he meant it.  
  
_From Cas:  Thank you, Dean.  I enjoy our conversations very much._    
  
Dean felt his insides twist at Cas’ words.  They talked a lot; mostly via text, but occasionally one of them would press the Facetime button or call.  They’d only managed to get together a couple of times for a cup of coffee since their lunch date, but Dean was more wrapped up in this amazing man than ever.  Sometimes, when it was late at night, and Cas was on Dean’s screen in his bumblebee pajamas rambling on about the plight of the Nepali Rainforest, Dean wanted to ask him if he felt like Dean did.  Dean wanted to tell Cas that every time he thought about that afternoon they sat together at the park with Zoe, he felt more connected to Cas than he had to anyone in his life.  But, Dean was a fucking chicken shit, is what it came down to.  Sometimes, Dean thought he could see the blue of Cas’ eyes darken with what Dean could only read as desire, and he would almost do it – he would almost tell Cas how much he wanted him, and plead Cas to need him just as much.  
  
Dean pressed his palm firmly against his crotch in an attempt to calm the semi that was already starting to cause pressure.  Dean cursed himself for getting worked up from a fucking text message and flipped his legs off the couch to a sitting position just in case Sam came through the living room.  It was hard to hide a damn erection in gym shorts.  Figuring Cas was probably wondering where the hell he’s fucked off to, he turned his attention back to the conversation.  
  
_From Dean:  Me too.  What are you up to this weekend?_  
  
The reply was immediate.  
  
_From Cas:  I have to drive down to my parent’s house at Lake Hart._    
  
Dean did a double take.  In the months he’d known Cas, Dean couldn’t remember him ever mentioning his parents.  Jimmy, of course, and another brother, Gabriel, who lived in LA, who Cas wasn’t close to, but never parents.  Cas spoke of Dr. Moseley, Missouri, almost as if she were the mother figure in his life.  Dean had actually assumed Cas’ parents were already gone, like his own.  
  
_From Dean:  You’ve never talked about your Mom and Dad.  Why do you need to go down there?_  
  
From Cas:  They’re finally reading Jimmy’s will today.  I asked if I really needed to be there and the lawyer said that I did.  So does Meg.  
  
Dean couldn’t imagine how difficult that would be.  He was glad Meg would be there with Cas at least.  It was difficult to infer tone from a text message, but Cas didn’t sound thrilled to be seeing his parents, so he and Meg may really need each other’s support. __  
  
From Dean:  Wow.  That’s rough, Cas.  I’m sorry.  I wish there was something I could do to make it easier.  
  
From Cas:  You help more than you know, Dean. Thank you for always listening.  
  
If Dean could have one wish in that moment, it would be to have Cas transported to the same space so he could pull him into his arms.  He would fist his fingers into Cas’ thick mop of hair and never let go.   
  
_From Dean:  You’re welcome, Cas. <3_  
  
Dean’s felt his heart rate double as he hit the send button.  He didn’t know if the less-than-three heart was too much or not, but he wanted Cas to know, at least, that he cared.  He only hoped he hadn’t just made things really awkward over a stupid emoticon.  Only a couple of seconds passed before Dean felt the phone vibrate against his palm.  He fiddled with it between his fingers for a moment, hesitant to look at the screen.  Fuck it; he turned the phone to face him to check Cas’ reply.  
  
_From Cas: <3_  
  
If your face could actually crack from grinning, Dean was sure his would right then.  That little sideways heart just made his fucking morning!   
  
Nothing could kill Dean’s mood after that, not even the thought of spending four hours on a plane.  Even when Sam got on his case for leaving his clean laundry in the dryer, Dean took it in stride and went and gathered his clothes without comment.  Benny’s terrible jokes during their much-delayed catch-up call didn’t even make him nuts.  It’s like he was bouncing on cloud nine, and nothing could bring him down.  And the tip of the iceberg, he would get to spend the next day with his best friend!

  
~~~  


Dean loved conventions, but they were exhausting.  Charlie, having already been there three days, had already scoped out the decent venders and displays, so she was able to give Dean the nickel tour first thing.  Although it had been loud, and somewhat claustrophobic, Dean could’ve still spend several more hours with his camera catching the magnificent structural elements on site, and cosplays that had clearly been a labor of love for those wearing them.  They’d had just enough time for him to treat Charlie to a hot dog and coke before Dean spent the next eight hours playing photographer to the stars.   
  
Dean had to admit, as much as he loved the chaos of the convention floor, taking fan photos was his favorite part, and that’s what he got paid for.  There was just something about the nervous excitement in the photo op rooms that buoyed Dean and had him moving along with the classic rock he played from the iPhone speakers provided.  The photographers could choose their own music, and Dean loved that he could let loose relax into the atmosphere of the room and his craft.  
  
As the staff ushered each fan or group up to their idols, Dean would give them a winning smile, hoping to loosen them up a little.  Often it worked.  Charlie said he had a face that would distract them from who they were actually there to see.  Dean didn’t know if that were true, but, more often than not, he got smiles back.  
  
The lines went quickly – the convention staff, celebrities, and Dean, all having the routine down to a well-oiled machine.  Every fan got their moment, and Dean liked to think he’d given them his best work.  By the time he and Charlie were slumped against a quiet wall at the end of the day, heads tipped back and eyes closed, taking advantage of an unoccupied outlet to charge their phones, Dean’s feet were pulsing inside his boots.  
  
“Fuck!” Dean sighed, lifting his hands to roll his wrists and wiggle his stiff fingers struggling to ease the ache from overuse.  
  
“Eloquent,” Charlie snorted.  
  
“Good as it gets, my queen,” Dean parroted back tilting his head forward in a pathetic attempt at a sarcastic bow.  Since all it accomplished was a stabbing pain in his neck, Dean snapped his head back, bumping it back against the wall with an audible thump.  
  
“Quit whacking your head!” Charlie admonished with a solid punch to Dean’s arm.  “We need that brain cell.  Now, it’s decision time.  Which of your phenom photos am I posting on the blog tomorrow?  Personally…” Charlie leaned in to whisper, “…I’m a fan of the pretty blonde in the silvery white fairy outfit.”  
  
“Color me surprised,” Dean laughed.  “Did you get her phone number?”  
  
“Is Ron Weasley a redhead?  Charlie flipped her royal copper curls over her shoulder and looked at Dean like he’d just asked the world’s stupidest question.  “Now seriously.  Which one?”  
  
“Her Royal Highness, Queen of Moondor.”  
|  
“What?” Charlie replied, beginning to get visibly frustrated.  
  
Dean couldn’t help but laugh at Charlie’s irritation and misinterpretation.  “That’s the photograph I want on the blog, you dork.  The ever charming, always beautiful, continual-pain-in-my-ass-Charlie Bradbury, as the Queen.”  Dean looked over at Charlie who had yet to utter a word; in fact, she’d yet to close her mouth.  “You know you’re gonna start catching flies right?”  
  
Charlie’s mouth closed with a pop, but her eyes were wide as saucers.  Dean tried to remember if he’d ever known Charlie to be speechless.  As he watched the pressure build, Dean knew an explosion was coming, but he still wasn’t wholly prepared for the animalistic squeal and tackle hug from his best friend.  Charlie managed to whip her long velvet robe out of the way well enough launch herself at him and wrap herself around him like an octopus, so much so that Dean was sure she’d somehow procured an extra limb or two.  “Really?” she managed to squeak in his ear without strangling him.  
  
“Yes, really,” he said, as he attempted to pry Charlie’s surprisingly strong arms from around his neck.  “Not only is your cosplay amazing, but you can write up a great little blurb about why you do it – encourage all the chick-nerds of the world, or something.”  
  
“Oh, how gracious of you, Dean,” Charlie said with an arched eyebrow, and Dean couldn’t tell if he’d inadvertently offended her or not.  “You know what I mean, Red,” he back-peddled, just in case.  
  
Charlie gently nudged him with her shoulder and smiled, and he knew he’d been forgiven.  “Thanks,” she whispered before pecking him on the cheek.  A moment of protectiveness rushed over him and he couldn’t help but cradle her head in his much larger hand and pull her close for a few seconds – just long enough to settle his heart and let Charlie feel how much he cared.  He ruffled her hair as he let go.  “You’re welcome, Bradbury.  Now, I better get my ass in gear.  Got a plane to catch.”  Dean unplugged his cord from the outlet and powered up his phone.  He’d barely looked at it since that morning and wasn’t surprised to see a list of text messages scroll across the screen after the apple logo faded.  As he scrolled through them, he noticed that none were from Cas.  
  
“That’s weird,” he mumbled, thumbing quickly through the list.  
  
Charlie stood beside him, brushing the dust from her precious outfit and reaching down to gather her own things.  “What is?”  
  
“Cas hasn’t texted me once.  There’s a bunch of messages from Sam, a couple from Eileen, the one from you from earlier, a missed call from a client, but nothing at all from Cas.”  
  
“Did he know you were coming to Vegas?”  
  
“Yeah, of course,” Dean said, shrugging his shoulders.  I mean, he was going to his parent’s place yesterday and I know it was gonna be rough on him, but I texted him and let him know I’d be here in case he wanted to talk or anything.”  
  
Charlie rested her tiny hand on Dean’s arm, and what it lacked in size, it made up for in comfort.  “Maybe he didn’t feel up to talking.”  
  
“Maybe,” Dean mused, knowing it was more likely Cas just didn’t want to be a bother to Dean while he was working.  Damn.  Dean pulled up Cas’ contact information and shot off a quick text to check in.  Hopefully, Cas would reply while he was in the cab to the airport and then he could relax.  Until then, he knew all he would do was worry.  


 


	7. Chapter 7

Dean scrubbed the sleep from his eyes enough to make out the glowing numbers on the old digital alarm clock Sam insisted on keeping on the nightstand.  He had to admit, it was easier than fumbling for his phone when everything still had that morning haze over it.  11:43! Damn, he wasn’t used to sleeping that late.  It was barely still morning.  He’d stumbled in shortly after two, after a grabbing a Lyft at the airport – no way was he bothering Sam at that hour – and he’d barely managed to pull off his boots before crashing face first onto the bed.  Dean bemoaned that fact now, as he tried to work out the twinge in his lower back, and he cussed at himself for not taking the extra few seconds to strip down.  He really hated sleeping in jeans.  
  
Grabbing his phone to press the power button, Dean set it back down to do its thing while he went in search of something more comfortable to hang out in.  After emptying his insistent bladder, brushing his fuzzy teeth, and changing into a pair of worn plaid pyjama pants, Dean sat cross-legged in the middle of the bed and scrolled through his phone.  The only text message was from Charlie reminding him to let her know he got in okay.  Of course, he’d forgotten that too in his rush to hit the hay the night before.  He quickly sent her a text with an apology, letting her know he’d call her later that day.  There was a missed call notification from Benny and an alert letting him know he had a voice mail.  He could check that later.  He’d just talked to his friend the day before, so it couldn’t be too important.  Dean was disappointed to see there was still nothing from Cas, but before he could read too much into it, Charlie’s name popped up on his screen.  
  
_From Queen C:  I’ll forgive you this time.  Hey…you ever hear back from Cas?_  
  
So much for a distraction.  Dean sighed before swiping the screen to reply.  
  
_From Dean:  No, nothing.  I guess he really must need some time out.  It’s just not like him to go this long without texting, ya know?_  
  
From Queen C:  You really like him don’t you?  And don’t give me any of that ‘just friends’ bullcrap!  
  
Dean knew there was no hiding his real feelings from Charlie, not for any length of time, anyway, they’d known each other too long and too well for that.  When it came to best friends, Charlie was the real deal.  The call you out on your shit, see you at your worst, hold your hair when you puke (or maybe he did that for her once or twice), kind of friend who still loved you unconditionally.  He figured it was time to come clean.  
  
_From Dean:  Yeah, I really like him.  I don’t know how or when things changed, or maybe they never did.  I just felt connected to him right from the beginning.  I mean, he’s hot as fuck, but that wasn’t even it.  It’s hard to explain._  
  
Dean watched the little animated circles on the screen as he waited for Charlie’s reply and thought back to June when he and Cas first met the night of the shooting at Pulse.  He’d felt protective over Cas, worried for him, a little attracted to him, yes, but when it came to leave him later that morning, he hadn’t wanted to let go.  Then, Cas had been on his mind on a continuous loop.  No matter what he’d thought about in days following, it always somehow circled back to the sad, confused man in the oversized trench coat who’d stolen Dean’s every conscious moment.  Dean thought back to the other morning and realized that Cas was seeping into his unconscious moments lately too.  He flushed warm from the memory, willing his dick to behave while he was having a conversation with Charlie, of all people.  A block of text appeared, giving him something to focus on.  
  
_From Queen C:  I knew it!!  What the fuck, Winchester?  Why do you even bother trying to hide shit from me?  K…now that I’ve gotten that out of my system.  How does he feel about you?  Is he even gay?  Do you even know?  I have so many questions, so spill!_  
  
Well, Dean sighed, it’s not like any of that was unexpected.  As he was about to tap the keyboard, Charlie’s face appeared on his screen indicating a call just as _Ramble On_ sounded through the tinny speakers.  Dean swiped at the green phone icon instead.  
  
“Hey, Red.  Surprise, surprise.”  
  
“You were taking too long to answer me,” Charlie whined, and Dean could picture the scrunched up, petulant look on her face causing him to chuckle.  He uncrossed his legs and pushed with his heels until his back touched pillows and his shoulders met the headboard.  Might as well get comfortable while he got grilled about his non-existent love life.  “Well, you have my attention now.  Go to town.”  
  
Charlie sounded impatient, if impatient had a sound, as series of loud, half sighs, half groans sounded in his ear.  “All of the questions still apply, Dean.  Stop stalling, start talking.”  
  
“Okay, okay,” Dean said, bowing to Charlie’s demands.  He ran his hand up through his hair and tried to sort his thoughts into words.  “I think he’s gay, yes, although he’s never come right out and said.  His brother definitely was, and from his stories of their past hijinks, I get the feeling they both were.  Jimmy was definitely the man-whore of the two though.  Cas comes off as pretty inexperienced actually, but that’s just an observation, not something I know for sure.  He’s never mentioned an ex, male or female.”  
  
“And, does he know you’re bi?”  
  
Dean had to think about that for a minute.  I mean, he hadn’t specifically discussed his sexual orientation with Cas, but Cas knew about Aaron and he’d mentioned Lisa from College at least in passing, so it could be inferred he supposed.  “Uh, yeah I think so.  He at least knows I’m into guys.”  
  
“So, does he like you the same way?” Charlie asked carefully.  
  
Damn, he hated this shit.  “I don’t know, Charlie.  Fuck!  This isn’t High School.  I haven’t passed him a note with boxes to check or anything.”  Dean took a deep breath, realizing he was lashing out at the wrong person.  “He’s my friend, that much I know.  Sometimes he does or says little things that make me wonder, or he reacts to something I do in a way that makes me think he might be interested, but I don’t know if that’s just me seeing what I want to see.”  
  
“So what’s stopping you from just asking him?”  
  
Dean knocked his head back against the headboard, welcoming the dull thud and instant smarting.  That was the question Dean had been waiting for, the one he’d been internally battling himself over for months already.  Why didn’t he just make a move?  He’d had so many opportunities but Dean had backed off every time.  Hell, a few of those times Cas had actually looked disappointed or become distant, like that afternoon at the park, but… “He needs a friend, Red, not some smitten guy drooling all over him.  His brother just died.”  
  
He heard Charlie’s sigh over the distance telling him he was being an insufferable idiot.  He was familiar with that particular sigh, having been on the receiving end of it plenty of times before.  Charlie’s voice seemed softer, gentler, when she spoke again.  “Stop being a martyr, Dean.  You can be his friend and his boyfriend at the same time, you know.  Why don’t you let him decide what he needs from you?”  
  
“I’ll think about it,” Dean said, and he meant it.  “If I can ever get him to answer me.”  
  
“He’ll come around.  No one can resist your freckled mug for long,” Charlie teased, and Dean could picture her wide, familiar smile, the thought warming his insides like hot cocoa on a snowy day.  
  
‘Thanks, Bradbury.  You’re a liar, but you’re a good one,” Dean shot back, earning a laugh from his best friend.  “Well, I better get my ass moving.  I haven’t even wrangled up any caffeine yet and my stomach is gonna start chewing on itself if I don’t feed it soon.”  
  
“Okay, you go feed the beast,” Charlie said. “Oh, and don’t forget to check the blog after.  I put the Queen of Moondor photo up.”  
  
Charlie sounded so excited, Dean couldn’t help but grin.  He definitely needed to grab a coffee and some chow, and he wanted to try Cas again, but devoting some time to work was on the agenda for the afternoon anyway, and he couldn’t wait to see what Charlie had written to accompany her picture.  
  
“You bet, Red.  I’m on it,” he replied, so Charlie knew he wouldn’t leave her hanging.  
  
“Thanks, Dean.  Peace out.”  
  
The call ended before Dean had a chance to say goodbye, but that was fine.  He knew he’d be in touch with Charlie later after he looked at the blog.  _Humans of Lawrence Kansas_ was his baby after all, well maybe after his car, and maybe Cas?  
  
The mysterious leftovers in the fridge turned out to be pasta, and actually pretty edible even if they were green, and paired with a strong cup of coffee, they made a decent enough lunch that Dean was feeling pretty good by the time he grabbed his laptop, a second cup of joe, and his phone and made himself comfortable on the couch.  Rio curled up beside him in her customary spot.  She was never too far when Dean was around.  He scratched the top of her head between her ears and she rubbed her face into the pads of his fingers, purring like a little engine.  “You like that, huh?” Dean cooed as she got progressively louder.  
  
Dean had left Cas a couple more text messages and tried calling once, but the call had gone straight to voicemail.  Dean was definitely getting worried.  In an attempt to distract himself, he logged in and checked the blog.  Charlie had done a fantastic job.  
  


[ ](https://imgur.com/47IZJRG)

   

> _**When I’m the Queen of Moondor, I can do anything.  I feel powerful, and confident when I put on that dress and crown.  The scared little redhead that has weathered so many storms by cowering in fear is gone, and in her place is an independent woman who has an army at her feet willing to do her bidding.  Since I discovered the world of fantasy, LARP, and cosplay, I’ve learned that whenever I feel alone, there is always a world full of people just like me just a mouse click away.  It’s freeing to know that I can be someone else for a while, while still being myself.  
>  **_  

Dean leaned back on the couch and rubbed his hands down the front of his cotton pants.  He considered what Charlie had written.  He knew all the ugly parts of Charlie’s past.  Her parent’s fatal car accident, being bounced around the system as a young impressionable teen, getting caught up in the wrong crowd at a vulnerable age, ending up in a home for wayward girls at seventeen, and eventually running away and supporting herself by small-time computer hacking.  Dean had met her not long after through their mutual friend, Ash, who Dean used to buy pot from when he was in his early twenties.  Ash was even more of a genius than Charlie, and that was saying something.  They’d bonded immediately.  Charlie was like a little sister and she was just as important to him as Sam.  He hadn’t spent as much time with her once Aaron had moved in, but he still tried to talk to her as often as he could.  Spending the previous day with her made Dean realize just how much he missed her.  
  
He looked back at the photograph on the blog, noticing that it already had hits well into the thousands thanks to Charlie sharing it around Twitter, Facebook, Instagram, and whatever other magical social media accounts Charlie managed for Dean.  Not only was she his best friend, she was a beautiful goddess, and she kept his blog relevant and thriving.  
  
No longer being able to ignore it, Dean glanced over at his lifeless phone, silently willing it to do something.  Even Rio’s purring was starting to get irritating as the anxiety started to wash over him.  Sitting around doing nothing wasn’t Dean’s style at the best of times and not hearing from Cas for almost thirty-six hours was sending Dean quickly to his breaking point.  Other than Cas’ cell number, Dean had nothing.  No address, no family members, nada.  A sudden, awesome idea, had Dean bounding from the couch over to the fridge, his phone in his hand.  The fridge magnet dropped and skittered across the tile floor when Dean grabbed Rio’s vaccination schedule from the fridge.  He didn’t bother to pick it up.  
  
“Sunrise Veterinary Hospital, Hannah speaking,” was the greeting Dean heard after the second ring.  
  
He tried to even out his breathing. “Hey, Hannah.  It’s Dean Winchester.”  
  
“Oh, Hi Dean,” Hannah said, brightly.  “How’s Rio doing?”  
  
“Uh, she’s great,” Dean answered, turning to look fondly at the little cat curled into the warm spot on the couch he’d just vacated.  “Livin’ the dream.”  
  
“That’s good to hear.  She’s just a sweetheart.”  
  
Dean nodded, unconscious of the fact that Hannah couldn’t see him.  His mind was too preoccupied with the reason for his call.  “Is Castiel busy?” he asked, quickly, before Hannah could make any more small talk.  
  
“Oh, he’s not here,” Hannah answered.  “He was supposed to be in this afternoon, but he called Dr. Moseley and said he needed the afternoon off.”  
  
Dean sense of unease intensified; his grip on the phone tightening as he tried to keep his voice calm and steady.  “Do you happen to know where he is?”  When Hannah didn’t answer right away, it occurred to Dean that she’d have no reason to give out any more information than she already had.  To Hannah, Dean was just another customer, but maybe… “That’s okay, don’t worry about it.  Is, um, Dr. Moseley available for a sec?”  
  
“I think she just finished up with a patient.  I’ll check,” Hannah answered quickly, and Dean heard the tell-tale beep of being put on hold.  He didn’t have to wait long before Dr. Moseley’s gentle voice filled his ear, instantly settling the prickling sensation that had been rising on the back of his neck.  How did she do that?   
  
“Why hello, Dean honey.  Hannah tells me you’re looking for our Castiel.”  
  
“Yesss,” Dean gushed, finally unable to hide the worry he’d been shouldering by himself.  “I haven’t heard from him in almost two days and he’s not answering my texts or calls.  I’m getting pretty worried, to be honest.”  
  
Dr. Moseley hummed into the phone like she was soothing a crying puppy.  “Oh sweet baby, I told him you’d worry.  He always turns his phone off when he gets like this.”   
  
“Like, what?” Dean asked.  
  
“I’ve known Castiel a long time,” Dr. Moseley started, as if she were settling in to tell Dean a long tale.  “He’s always been the quiet one, blending in as much as possible, especially when Jimmy and Meg were around, but Castiel was Jimmy’s rock. “  
  
Dean thought it would make more sense if it were the other way around.  The way Cas described it, Jimmy was the sun and the stars.  “I’m not sure I get it,” he said.  
  
“On the outside, Jimmy was outgoing and fun.  He was successful and rich, and he had an endless trail of lovers and friends, but on the inside, he was surprisingly insecure.  Everything in his life was so utterly superficial, with the exception of his friendship with Meg and his closeness with his brother.”  Dr. Moseley sighed deeply and then continued.  “Castiel kept Jimmy grounded, and Jimmy then managed to do the same for Meg.”  
  
Okay, Dean supposed that made sense.  What he didn’t understand was why Dr. Moseley was telling him all of this.  Unsurprisingly, he didn’t have to ask.  
  
“I know you’re wondering why I’m telling you all of this.”  Dr. Moseley said in her soulful tone.  “You need to know why Castiel is hiding today.”  
  
“I just wanna know if he’s okay,” Dean said, honestly, leaving out the fact that he would really prefer to see for himself as well.  
  
“Castiel hides from the world when he gets overwhelmed.  He always has.  Since he lost Jimmy, he’s done it more often.  I think, without his brother leaning on him, he feels lost – like he has no purpose.  Saturday was hard on him, so when he called to say he was taking Zoe out to the Point this afternoon and he wouldn’t be in, I wasn’t surprised.”  Dr. Moseley started humming again, this time it was a tune, something Dean recognized but couldn’t quite place.  She stopped.  “He’ll be alright, but Dean Winchester?”  
  
“Uh, yeah?” Dean answered, hesitantly.  
  
“He needs you.”  
  
Before Dean could answer, the call ended.  Dean slowly lowered the phone away from his ear, both relieved and confused by the conversation; but, before he could spend too much time examining it, his phone lit up with a text message alert.  Dean quickly swiped the screen.  
  
_From Unknown:_ _Dan Tarrell Memorial Point, Lakefront Park, St. Cloud_.  
  
Hoping like hell Sam had ridden with Eileen, Dean copied the text into iMaps and grabbed his keys.  Rio protested with an indignant meow as he dashed past her to the back door.  He shrugged his shoulders at her in apology and made his way to the porch, sighing in relief to see Sam’s Prius in the driveway.  He patted her paint reverently just before he opened the door to get in.  “I’m really sorry for every time I called you a toy car.”  
  
What, according to iMaps, should be a forty minute drive, seemed to be taking much longer with it inching into rush hour.  Dean found himself tapping at the steering wheel and mumbling under his breath at the crawling traffic.  Now that he knew where to find Cas, he was eager to just see him at least to set his anxious mind at ease.  The air conditioning drowned out the worst of the traffic noise, but Dean still missed the distraction of the tape deck in his ’67 Impala at home.  His baby was a classic and she knew how to calm him with real music.  Sam’s car stereo ran on Bluetooth and Dean had no idea how that shit worked.  A frustrating hour later, he was pulling into a parking lot with a large blue and white sign advertising that he’d finally reached his destination.  Not knowing what Cas drove, it was impossible to know if one of the handful of cars in the parking lot was his.  Dean hoped he was still here.   
  
Dean climbed out of the Car, taking in his surroundings.  There were a couple of white-washed buildings surrounded by manicured lawns and potted palms, with flags on tall poles fluttering in the slight breeze coming off the lake.  Dean was thankful for that, at least, in the warmth of the typical Florida Fall afternoon as he used his damp t-shirt to wipe the sweat from his hairline.  In front of the structures, jutting into the serene lake, was a weathered dock with a plethora of boats moored, their colors and chrome details glinting in the reflection of the bright sunlight on the water.  Squinting, even with his sunglasses, Dean could see a sandy beach in the distance to one side and a walking path leading out to a point in the lake on the other.  Keeping in mind the _Memorial Point_ , part of the text message, Dean strode in that direction.  
  
As Dean made his way down towards the point, his hands shoved in the pockets of his shorts, he watched a trio of children squealing with excitement at the park’s splash pad, darting in and out of the spray inflicted on them by the others.  He was suddenly jealous of their innocence.  What did they know of violence and loss and hate?  Dean nodded in greeting at the man sitting with an iced coffee, clearly supervising the water battle.   He looked weary too.  
  
The tarmac path grew narrower closer to the point.  There were benches on both sides, and overlapping rows of mottled grey rocks that lead down to the water.  A handful of people were out on their rollerblades, or with their dogs enjoying the sunshine of a fall afternoon.  Dean looked out to where the land ended in an open area with a few more scattered benches and a gazebo, hoping to catch sight of Cas.  Even then, it was Zoe he saw first when she came bounding over to him with a dripping wet tennis ball in her mouth, stopping right in front of him to shake out her long hair and spray him with droplets of lake water.  Dean jumped back a bit at the first assault of ‘wet dog’, but when he recovered from the initial shock, he reached down to rub Zoe’s fluffy ears.  She immediately sat and leaned her head into his thigh dropping the ball on the ground at his feet.  
  
“Look at you, all soaking wet and still a sucker for a head rub,” Dean murmured at the sweet dog.  “Now where’s your Daddy at, huh?”  
  
Dean’s question was answered when he saw Cas walking over from the far end of the point by the gazebo.  He wore dark board shorts and a t-shirt, a ball cap of some kind, and sandals.  The details were lost on Dean from a distance, but it was by far the most casually dressed Dean had ever seen him.  Also new, was the shadow around Cas’ jawline, indicating at least a few days of scruff.  As he approached, Zoe decided joining Cas was a bigger priority than greeting Dean, and ran off to meet him.  Dean walked in Cas’ direction until they finally stood face to face.  When he took in the dark circles under Cas’ eyes, his greyish pallor and his hunched shoulders, Dean pulled Cas into a tight hug, exhaling in one giant breath all the worry that had been eating away at him for two days.  Cas wrapped his arms around Dean’s back, awkwardly hugging back.  They both pulled away at the same time but Cas spoke first.  
  
“What are you doing here, Dean?  How did you know where I was?”  
  
“I called your work,” Dean answered, suddenly all too aware that Cas had every right to be pissed at him for tracking him down when he obviously didn’t want to be found.  He bent down just enough to bury his fingers in Zoe’s still-damp hair.  She was safe, yet still an anchor to Cas that Dean could latch onto while he navigated this awkward moment.  Zoe seemed happy enough for the attention.  “I was really worried when you didn’t answer any of my texts or calls.”  He raised his head to meet Cas’ eyes, hoping Cas could tell that he was being honest.  What he saw caused his heart to plummet.  Cas wasn’t angry at all.  All Dean could see in the blue depths of Cas’ eyes was sadness and it made Dean’s chest ache.   
  
“I’m sorry.  It wasn’t my intention to worry you,” Cas said, his delivery so monotone that Dean had a hard time not transporting straight back to that first night they met in June.  “I turned my phone off so I could think, and then I wanted to spend some time with Zoe.  I suppose I should’ve checked it, at least.”  
  
Dean wrapped a hand around Cas’ wrist, slowly circling the raised veins with the pad of his thumb.  “Hey, Cas.  It’s okay.  I’m just glad you’re alright.”  Cas didn’t shy away from the touch, so Dean kept is hand where it was, the gesture saying without words just how glad he was to see Cas.  
  
“Maybe we could go sit down and talk?” Cas asked suddenly, a slightly hopeful lilt to his voice.  
  
Dean didn’t even hesitate.  He dropped Cas’ arm, to slap his thigh and get Zoe’s attention and started towards rocks at the lakeshore.  “Yeah, let’s do it.”  
  
They scrambled down to sit on the rocks facing out towards the water.  The sun was low in the sky, sending a swathe of golden ripples across the lake as for as far as Dean could see.  Dean lobbed the ball back towards the water and Zoe scampered off after it, breaking up the stillness.  
  
“It’s peaceful out here,” Dean said, his voice sounding foreign against the ambient natural sounds of lapping water, chirping birds, and rustling trees.  
  
“Not always,” Cas replied, it’s a popular spot, but it’s a Monday, and it’s getting close to sundown.  I like to come here with Zoe when I know it won’t be busy.  I find it very calming by the water and out here at the point, I’m surrounded by it.”  
  
“Sorry again for intruding, Cas.” As glad as he was to be spending time with Cas, Dean still felt a little guilty for invading what Cas had clearly meant to be time alone.  
  
Cas shook his head.  “Now that you’re here, I’m glad.  I’ve missed talking to you.”   
  
“You can always talk to me, day or night,” Dean promised.  He didn’t know how to get through to Cas just how much he meant that.  Dean wasn’t much for exploring his own crap, but he was always willing to be a listening ear when someone else needed it.  He had a feeling Cas would lose it pretty soon if he didn’t open up to someone.  Dean really hoped he could be that someone.  
  
Cas turned towards Dean, the miles of glistening water the perfect backdrop for the ever-changing blue in his eyes, and sighed faintly, pulling his knees up to meet his chest and wrapping his tanned arms around them.  With a final look of determination, he spoke.  “I haven’t seen my parents since I was 20.”  
  
Dean’s eyes widened with surprise, but he stayed silent, allowing Cas to continue uninterrupted.  
  
“Over Christmas break during our sophomore year of College, Jimmy came out to our family.”  Cas paused and took a deep breath.  “Now you have to understand, we had a very oppressive upbringing.  There were Nannies and Country Clubs, and praying to the good Lord every Sunday.  Everything we did catered to appearance.  My mother and father were both respected doctors, and their standing in the community was their highest priority; we were never to do anything to jeopardize it.”  
  
Dean tried to imagine himself as a kid or teenager living in the scenario Cas described.  His own childhood was far from idyllic, but he and Sam were free to do as they pleased for the most part.  The stringent rules Cas had lived under would’ve been suffocating. “So, I’m guessing your parents didn’t exactly jump for joy at Jimmy’s big news?”  
  
The look on Cas’ face could only be described as disgust, and Dean found it almost painful to imagine what a parent would need to do to put it there.   
  
“They started by telling him it was a phase – the usual denial tactics.  When he insisted it wasn’t, they started in on the religious anti-gay rhetoric.  Jimmy shut that down like a hurricane by saying he no longer believed in god.”  Cas ran his hand through his hair, tugging slightly, his eyes dilated.  “Next, it was time to bring me into it.  Why can’t you be more like Castiel, Jimmy?  You’ve always been the difficult twin.  Now, look at what you’ve turned into while Castiel is such a good son.”  Cas dropped his arms and spun to sit cross-legged in front of Dean, face just inches away.  “I hated them in that moment.  They knew nothing about me, nothing at all.”  
  
Dean gently placed both hands on Cas’ knees hoping the touch would let Cas know he was there and hearing every word, and that he was so fucking sorry that Cas and Jimmy had had to go through something so awful.  He squeezed gently, hoping Cas got the message.  
  
Cas swallowed, and then coughed.  Dean wished he’d brought a bottle of water out of the Prius because it really sounded like Cas could use it.  Eventually, Cas cleared his through enough to continue.  
  
“I couldn’t listen to it.  I couldn’t stand seeing the look on my brother’s face while my parents painted me as some kind of saint just to make him look worse.  I walked right up to my father and told him I was as gay as Jimmy, and if he was going to hell I was going right along with him.”  
  
Cas seemed to deflate from his last words; all the fight going out of him.  Dean could almost picture that Cas of nine years ago, standing up to his father and then wondering what the fuck he’d done.  He could make an educated guess as to what happened next, but he asked anyway, knowing this story was leading up to what had happened to upset Cas this past weekend.  
  
“What happened, Cas?”  
  
“My father told us both to go.  Blamed Jimmy for corrupting me or something – I don’t even remember now.  I was in shock by that point.  Jimmy had to lead me through the motions of getting my things.”  Cas shrugged.  “We were lucky really.  Our housing and tuition were already paid for the year.  We both had money already in personal accounts, so when we found out they’d cut us off, we were still okay.  We had to work to get through the next few years and get student loans, but it was worth it.”  
  
“And you hadn’t talked to them again until Saturday?” Dean asked.  
  
“I didn’t even want to then, but the lawyer insisted I be there,” Cas replied.  “Meg had to go as well.  I hoped we could just listen to the lawyers and then leave.  I really hoped no one would make a scene, but it was awful, Dean.  It was so much worse than I could’ve imagined.”  
  
Dean couldn’t help himself.  He looped his arms around Cas’ broad shoulders and pulled him close.  “I’m so sorry.  I wish I’d known,” he murmured as he kneaded his fists into the chords of Cas’ upper back, hoping to ease out some of the tension along with providing the comfort.  
  
Cas pulled back from Dean’s embrace and Dean could see the unshed tears threatening to spill over, glistening on Cas’ dark eyelashes.   
  
“There’s nothing you could have done, although I appreciate the sentiment,” Cas whispered, his voice wavering slightly.  “When my parents realized that Jimmy had left them nothing, my father really lost it, in front of the lawyers and everything.”  Dean watched as the tears finally began to stream unchecked down Cas cheeks.  He pulled Cas hands into his own and held them tightly together, swearing to himself he’d never let go.  Cas sniffled wetly.  “He yelled at Meg – told her she should’ve died right alongside Jimmy.” He stopped to gulp for air.  “Then he said Jimmy died because of his sins against God and that it’s a pity I hadn’t gone with him that night.” Cas was barely able to finish speaking before he openly sobbed, falling forward.  Dean let go of Cas’ hands to catch him and he held him tight, hushing him, hoping that he could take away even an ounce of the hurt that must be eating Cas up inside.  
  
Dean held Cas while he cried.  He held him until the sun started to dip beneath the horizon, giving the sky a pink and orange glow, and slowly, Cas’ sobs turned to hiccups, and then to sniffles, and finally to soft sighs.  Dean gently pulled away, letting his fingers slide across the width of Cas’ shoulders, stopping at his biceps, not willing to let go completely.  He worried at the sleeves of Cas’ t-shirt, rubbing the worn cotton between the pad of his thumb and forefinger.  “Are you okay?” he asked, all of a sudden becoming aware of just how physically close they had become.  Cas was practically sitting in Dean’s lap, his knees actually on top of Deans, and their faces were just inches apart.  Cas either hadn’t noticed or didn’t mind, so Dean tried to put it out of his mind.  
  
“I’m…,” Cas hesitated, his red-rimmed eyes connecting with Dean’s.  Cas didn’t finish speaking and Dean found himself unable to breathe under Cas’ intense gaze.  Dean realized that Cas was going to kiss him just moments before their lips met and a spike of panic coursed through his body;  then Cas’ slightly chapped lips were covering his, moving just enough for Dean to know they felt so much softer than they looked.  All panic receded when Cas wrapped his arms around Dean’s waist and tugged him closer.  Dean scrambled to his knees, his mouth never leaving Cas’, and tilted his head to the side, opening to deepen the kiss.  He pushed one hand up the back of Cas’ neck to fist his fingers into thick, dark hair, and Cas let out a tiny moan at the contact.  
  


[](https://imgur.com/fzTHuMz)

This was happening.  Dean couldn’t think past that one certainty.  He could feel the muscle in Cas’ upper arm, the gooseflesh in his damp hairline, and the heat in Cas’ mouth as he swiped his tongue along the seam of Cas’ lips to gain entrance.  Cas opened for him eagerly, causing a rush of warmth to course through Dean’s body and limbs.  His reaction to finally getting what his mind and body had been craving for months was visceral and Dean was lost in it.  
  
Before Dean had a chance to process what was happening, Cas had managed to wrangle himself until he was partially leaning back against the rocks and was tugging Dean down against him.  Dean was just lucid enough to be concerned about how uncomfortable that must be under Cas’ back, but Cas didn’t appear to care, he just pressed his fingers into the small of Dean’s back, making it perfectly clear where he needed Dean to be.  Dean groaned into their kiss, bracketing his hands on either side of Cas’ head and rolling his hips.  Cas finally broke the contact to whisper into Dean’s mouth.  “So long, Dean.  Wanted you for so long.”  
  
Hearing Cas’ voice sound so wrecked and breathless, saying those exact words, had Dean’s heart hammering inside his chest.  “Cas, I..”  
  
Zoe chose that moment to hop onto the rock just below them and burrow her wet face into the slight gap between their chests.  She licked at Cas’ chin excitedly, then repeated the action with Dean, alternating between them before taking a step back to shake the lake water out of her hair, covering both Dean and Cas with tepid spray.  
  
“Zoe!” Cas squawked when he smacked his head against the rocks.  Dean quickly rolled to the side and started parting Cas’ hair with his fingers, checking for any sign of blood.  “I don’t think you’re bleeding,” he said when he couldn’t find anything.  Cas pushed himself up to lean on his arms and started to chuckle, one hand reaching back to rub the back of his neck.  Zoe had already made her way around him to lap at the same place, fearful she’d given her Daddy an owie.  “What’s so funny?” Dean asked, trying not to smirk at the ridiculousness of their current situation.  
  
“Just thinking about what a cockblock my dog is, that’s all,” Cas said with a grin.  
  
Dean felt the corners of his mouth tug.  It was a relief to let himself smile, and then finally, laugh.  The gamut of emotions he and Cas had experienced in just the past hour had been exhausting.  He looked at Cas’ beautiful face – eyes sparkling and crinkled from laughing, and had the sudden desire to pinch something and make sure he wasn’t dreaming was overwhelming.  
  
“I think Zoe is trying to tell us it’s time to move this to someplace more comfortable,” Dean said with a nervous grin.  
  
When Cas nodded enthusiastically,  Dean pulled himself to his feet and reached down to tug Cas up with a grunt.  “I guess I should turn my phone back on,” Cas said, fishing it out of his pocket and pressing the power button.  
  
“I warn you,” Dean said sheepishly, “there’s a shit ton of missed calls and texts from me.”  
  
Cas smiled and studied his screen as he scrolled through what was clearly a lot of notifications.  His expression faltered as he got close to the end and he gasped and looked up at Dean with wide eyes and a stricken look of pure fear.  “We have to go.”  
  
Dean grabbed Cas’ hand and started scrambling up over the rocks onto the grass, confident that Zoe would follow their lead.  Once they were moving, he slowed enough to ask.  “What’s going on Cas?”  
  
Cas didn’t even turn around to answer.  “It’s Meg,” he said and pulled Dean harder.


	8. Chapter 8

For a few seconds, Dean had considered taking two cars.  The Prius wasn’t his after all and he didn’t know how Sam would feel about him leaving it in a parking lot, at night, an hour away from home, but one look at Cas’ distraught face had quickly made the decision for him.  No way was he letting Cas drive alone.  He tapped out a quick text to his brother explaining the situation, confident Sam would understand the necessity of what he’d done.  Sam replied almost instantly.  
  
_From Sammy:  Eileen and I will come down and get the car right now.  You and Cas do what you have to do.  Hope Meg is ok.  Keep us posted._  
  
After answering in the affirmative, he pocketed his phone and shifted his gaze to Cas, who had his eyes glued to the road and his hands locked on the wheel.  Dean could see the veins his arms protruding from his tanned skin, betraying the tense pressure Cas had radiating throughout his body as he drove.  Dean reached across the bench seat of Cas’ land-yacht of a car and gently squeezed Cas’ thigh.  He heard a soft release of breath and he took it as a sign to push.  
   
“Talk to me, Cas,” Dean whispered.  “What did Meg’s message say?”  
  
Cas dropped one hand from the wheel and pushed it up through his hair, a nervous habit Dean was all too familiar with.  He and Cas were a lot alike in some ways.  When Cas’ hand dropped back down, Dean clasped it in his own, intertwining their fingers and squeezing gently, hoping to reassure Cas that he was listening, that he would always listen.   
  
“She said she couldn’t do this anymore,” Cas finally rushed out on an exhale.  “She said she was done.”  
  
“That sounds a lot like…” Dean didn’t want to finish voicing his thought out loud.  
  
Cas nodded and pressed the gas, taking their exit a little faster than was really safe.  Dean instinctively grabbed onto the door handle with his free hand, nervous, but well aware that he would be doing the same thing if he were driving.  Once they were safely heading past a tired-looking Walmart and some equally run-down strip malls and chain restaurants, Cas spoke again.  
  
“Those were just the last two messages.  There were several before that.”  
  
Dean waited for Cas to continue, softly rubbing the pad of his thumb against Cas’.  
  
“She’d been trying to reach me.  She sounded pretty out of it.  I guess I’m not surprised after this weekend.”  The last few words trailed off into the darkness as Cas turned into a residential area that Dean thought looked pretty sketchy.  He didn’t think they were terribly far from College Park, but the area was clearly run down.  Older three-story homes, converted to apartment blocks lined both sides of the street where garbage littered the gutters and worn children’s toys were strewn about in patchy front yards.  They pulled up to a four-way-stop next a tiny corner store advertising cheap Marlboros and two-for-one taquitos.  Any other time, Dean’s stomach would probably take an interest, but food was the last thing on his mind.  Two teenaged boys and a redhead that could’ve been Charlie ten years ago, sat out on the front step passing around what Dean assumed was a cigarette, paying them no attention at all.  
  
“You know, whatever we’re walking into here, it isn’t on you,” Dean said calmly, hoping Cas understood what he was getting at.  “None of what happened this weekend, or what happened to get Meg to this place she’s in, is your fault, Cas.  None of it.”  
  
Cas sped up a little.  They were passing an old brick elementary school now, but it was well past time that schools zones mattered.   
  
“I could’ve tried harder,” Cas countered. “I knew she’d need me more with Jimmy gone, but I’m not my brother.  I wasn’t enough for her, Dean, not nearly enough.”  
  
Dean could see the tears glistening in Cas’ eyes against the glare of the streetlights and he hoped they were almost at Meg’s.  Cas was getting too distressed to be driving.  
  
“She doesn’t need you to replace Jimmy. She just needs you to be there for her, to be her friend, to understand her pain. You’re doing all those things, sweetheart. You’re doing all you can.”  
  
Cas sighed heavily, squeezing Dean’s hand in his own.  Dean could feel the tightening of muscle and ligament in each finger.  
  
“She was already fucked up when she got there on Saturday.  I know she’s been doing coke.  Her and Jimmy messed around with it here and there.  They knew I hated it, and lately…”  Cas voice was getting thin, and Dean knew he was having a difficult time holding it together.  They pulled into an alleyway and Cas slowed the car down, having to concentrate on the narrower, unpaved road.  
  
“When my Dad started yelling, Meg flipped.  She ran up to him and started pounding his chest and stomach.  The lawyer had to help me pull her off and I literally had to drag her out of there.”  
  
Cas pulled up behind a nondescript apartment block and shut off the car.  Dean turned to look at him.  “What happened when you left?”  
  
“I got her calmed down in the car and brought her back here.  I stayed for a couple of hours, had a couple of shots of Cuervo, and left.”  Tears started to run freely down Cas’ cheeks for the second time that evening.  “She was asleep when I left Dean, and she’d calmed right down, I swear.  I never would’ve turned my phone off if…”  
  
Dean pulled Cas into a hug and held tight for just a few seconds before releasing him whispering into his hair “I know, sweetheart.  I know.”  He swiped his thumbs under Cas’ eyes to catch the tears and planted a quick kiss on his forehead.  “Let’s go check on her, okay?"  Cas nodded.  He turned back to tell Zoe to stay and grabbed for the door handle.  Dean followed suit and seconds later they were ducking under a low-hanging porch into the building.  
  
The long narrow hallway was dimly lit by a single bare bulb hanging from a dingy, grey ceiling.  Dean took in the peeling wallpaper, yellowed from years of fingerprints and cigarette smoke and wondered how Meg lived in such a dismal place when her best friend had been so well off.  A baby wailed from behind one of the doors as they turn into the stairwell.   
  
Obviously, having predicted Dean’s unasked question, Cas spoke quietly as he started to climb the metal stairs.  “Meg would never let Jimmy help her.  She would accept gifts,” Cas paused to sigh, “you know, clothes or jewelry to go to the club, dinners out, that kinda stuff, but never money.  He hated that she lived here, but she always said it’s how she grew up…it’s what she knew.  I’m pretty sure they only really expensive thing Meg ever let Jimmy buy for her was her camera.”  
  
By the time Cas was finished explaining, they’d reached the top step and rounded the corner.  The only difference between this hallway and the one below were the water stains on the ceiling indicating the fact that this was the top floor.  Cas came to an abrupt stop in front of the third door on the left and knocked sharply, calling out Meg’s name.  When there was no answer on the second try, Cas turned the knob and the door opened.  
  
Dean followed Cas inside the apartment, his hand clasped firmly on Cas’ shoulder.  The living area was dark.  The heavy smoke-stained drapes were pulled across the window leaving just a long crack in the center where a streetlight cast eerie shadows on the oversized furniture.  “Meg?” Cas called out, tentatively.  “Are you home?”  
  
Glancing around, Dean could see an old oak coffee table in the middle of the room.  On it, was an ashtray overflowing with cigarette butts of varying sizes, several half-drunk glasses of water, a rather impressive looking, well-used bong, and a half-full bag of weed.  Dean could smell the pungent aroma of stale pot in every corner of the apartment.  There was a galley kitchen just to the left and rather than the pile of dirty dishes Dean was almost expecting, it was old and worn, but clean.  On the counter was an open jar of peanut butter, half a loaf of bread, a can of generic mushroom soup, and a can opener.   
  
Cas grabbed his hand and pulled him to a short hallway, where with the small amount of available light further away, Dean could barely see Cas’ shadowed form in front of him.  The door Cas paused at was ajar.  “I’m scared,” Cas whispered into the darkness.  Dean squeezed Cas’ hand in response knowing nothing he said could take the fear away.  He was scared too.  
  
Cas pushed open the door.  His hand flew to cover his mouth when he saw Meg’s body propped up against the bed with her head flopped over to the side, eyes closed tight.  Seeing Cas freeze-up had Dean jumping into motion.  He didn’t think, he just let autopilot take over and dashed towards Meg, sinking to his knees beside her on the floor.  He pressed his fingers into her neck to feel for a pulse, relief flooding him when he found a weak one.  “She’s alive, Cas!” he all but shouted, realizing too late that he’d just put his hand down in a pile of vomit.  
  
Hearing Dean’s voice snapped Cas out of it and he grabbed a shirt from Meg’s laundry pile and crouched down in front of her and them.  Dean grabbed the shirt from Cas and used it to wipe off his hand.  Cas’ eyes shifted to the hypodermic needle of dark liquid lying on the carpet between Meg’s prone legs, and then to the elastic tie on her upper arm.  Dean nodded, indicating he’d seen them already.  Just as Dean was considering what to do next, Meg started to shake.  Her eyes flew open, fear evident in her blown brown pupils before they rolled back and she really began to seize.  Dean grabbed Meg by her arms and as gently as he could manage without hurting either of them, laid Meg down on the floor, guiding her to avoid the puke.  Once he got her down, the shaking started to subside and he turned her onto her side, where she promptly vomited again, choking a little before fluttering her eyes closed and going silent.  
  
Dean re-checked her pulse and her breathing, nodding to Cas that both were still present, although he knew she wasn’t out of the woods.  Her grey coloring and clammy face were also good indication that they needed more immediate help.  “Call 911, Cas,” Dean said, while he slowly rubbed circles into Meg’s back, but he could see Cas was already holding the phone to his ear having done just that.  The ambulance didn’t take long.  Cas had stayed on the phone with the dispatcher while they repeatedly kept an eye on Meg’s vitals and kept each other calm.  Once the EMTs rolled Meg out of the apartment on the stretcher, Cas and Dean looked at each other once in silent agreement and followed the crew out to Cas’ car.  
  
“How did you know?” was the first thing out of Cas’ mouth as he turned the key in the ignition of his old Continental, frustrated when she didn’t catch first try.  He turned it again and she fired up, rumbling on her well-driven engine.  Dean made a mental note to take a look under the hood of Cas’ car in the next few days.  He doubted it was something Cas thought much about.  
  
“Know what?” Dean answered, not catching on at all to what Cas was talking about.  
  
“You knew exactly what to do with Meg.  I just froze, but you knew what to do for the seizure.  You handled everything like you’ve done it before.  You were practically a paramedic in there.”  
  
Dean shook his head.  “Remind me to tell you the story of Sam’s ex-girlfriend, Ruby, sometime.”  
  
“I’m sorry, Dean,” Cas said sincerely, “I didn’t mean to dredge up a difficult memory.”  
  
“S’ok,” Dean replied, and he realized it was.  Ruby was so far in he and Sam’s past now, thinking about the night she’d almost overdosed didn’t freak him out the way it once had.  “Sam was a kid, just fifteen, so it was a long time ago.”  
  
Dean knew he would never forget the night he’d gone to pick up Sam at a house party and had to call an ambulance for Ruby after she’d smoked too much crystal meth.  He was just fucking thankful his brother had been intelligent enough to say no when Ruby had offered it to him.  The fact that Sam was so stoned he could barely stand was enough to have Dean not speaking to him for weeks after.  Ruby’s waxy, lifeless face had haunted him for years.  That night had done its job though, neither he nor Sam had ever experimented with any hard drugs, and hopefully, the experience then had helped save Meg’s life tonight.  Cas didn’t need details of that tonight though.  He was anxious enough already.  
  
“Let’s just say, I’m glad I was able to help, alright?” Dean shuffled over until he was as close to Cas as he could get on the long bench seat and tipped his head onto Cas’ shoulder.  “She’s gonna be okay,” Dean mumbled into Cas’ ear.  He hummed tunelessly, just enough to break the silence, and watched Cas concentrate on the road.  
  
It had taken a while to get any information on Meg since neither Cas nor Dean was family.  When it became apparent that no family members were gonna crawl out of the woodwork, Cas tried talking to the Unit Clerk again.  The clerk checked for Meg’s next of kin, only to find out Meg had listed Jimmy.  Cas took a deep breath and faced the clerk head on.  “Jimmy Novak was my twin brother.  He died in June.  I’m all Meg has.  Please.”  
  
“Do you have identification, Mr. Novak?” the clerk finally asked.  
  
Once the doctors would finally let Cas in to see her, Meg was sleeping, but, in Cas’ words, “looking much more alive”.  They were told there was no point in them sticking around.  Meg would likely sleep until the next morning at least.  Dean could see the exhaustion in Cas’ face.  The dark circles around his eyes were prominent and Dean had no idea how long it had been since Cas had actually slept.  He was pretty exhausted himself.  
  
The drive back to Cas’ was quiet.  Cas seemed introspective and Dean didn’t want to interrupt his thoughts.  Dean leaned back against the window, the vibrations of the tires on the road almost lulling him to sleep after such an intensely emotional day.  He must’ve dozed off because he was startled when they came to a stop outside of a tiny stucco house surrounded by the shadows of giant palm trees.  
  
“This is my place,” Cas said nervously.  “You’re, uh, welcome to stay, um, that is unless you wanna get Sam to pick you up, or get a Lyft or something,” Cas mumbled.  Dean leaned over and pressed a gentle kiss to Cas’ mouth to stop him from rambling.  “I’d love to stay, that is, if you’re comfortable with that?” Dean answered, raising his eyebrow slightly in question.  Cas just nodded and silently exited the car.  Dean followed Cas around the back of the building through a wrought iron gate, Zoe close on their heels.  Dean noticed they were in a large grassy yard where Zoe immediately took off running.  “She’ll be back, don’t worry,” Cas said as he climbed a couple of wood steps to a door.  “She’s been cooped up in the car most of the evening.  She just needs to stretch her legs.”  
  
Dean fell in love with Cas’ little studio the minute he entered.  If Dean had to describe it, he would use the words eclectic, and cozy.  It was definitely tiny, just a kitchenette, living area, and bedroom all in one, with a little door off to the side that Dean assumed must be the bathroom, but it was a calming sage green with bookshelves on every available wall and mismatched quilts and crocheted throws on the couch and bed.   
  
“I love it,” Dean said, flopping down on the overstuffed couch.  “How did you managed to squeeze so much charm into such a small space?”  
  
‘You can thank Mrs. Petersen, my landlady, for that,” Cas answered while reaching into one of the bright blue kitchen cabinets and pulling out a bottle of Jim Beam.  “She’s the one responsible for all the homemade blankets and the hippie paint colors.”  
  
“Well, I think it’s pretty adorable.”  
  
“Thank you,” Cas replied, shyly.  I originally rented it because of the huge yard.  I wasn’t much concerned about the indoor space.  I just needed somewhere for Zoe to run.  But, I’ve learned to love it, and Mrs. Petersen is a lovely neighbor.  
  
Cas poured two fingers of whiskey into a couple of glasses and held one out while he took a seat.  Dean took the glass and downed over half in one good swallow.  
  
“Damn, I needed that.  Thanks, Cas.”  
  
Cas took his time and savored his drink.  Dean watched Cas eyes flutter closed as the amber liquid hit his throat and he swallowed with a satisfied sigh.  Dean couldn’t help but think that every simple thing that Cas did was perfection.  He set his glass down on the table.  “Do you need me to let Zoe in?” he asked, remembering that the dog was still outside.  
  
“If you don’t mind,” Cas answered, sipping his whiskey slowly, clearly enjoying the break from the stress of the evening.  “Just call her at the door.  She’ll come for you.”  
  
Dean did as Cas suggested and Zoe bounded up to him, tail wagging, happy to have someone paying her some attention.  She eventually ran past him to her bowls in the kitchen which Cas must have filled when he looking around the apartment.  “Don’t worry about her,” Cas said.  “She’ll go lay down when she’s finished.  Come and finish your drink.”  Dean thought Cas’ comment sounded a bit suggestive, but he could’ve been imagining things.  He was never sure with Cas.  
  
Before making himself comfortable, he downed his glass, noticing that Cas had also finished his.  He sat back down, much closer than he had been previously and trailed his fingers down Cas’ arm, unsure where exactly the line was after the events of the evening.  “Are you okay?” he asked, quietly.  Cas smiled one of his soft smiles, one of the ones that Dean wanted to capture with his camera and keep forever because they made his heart skip.  Cas brought his hand up to cradle Dean’s face and Dean leaned into it, fighting the urge to actually nuzzle into Cas’ palm.  Cas brushed the pad of his thumb over Dean’s lips and nodded.  “Yes, Dean.  I wouldn’t be though if it wasn’t for you.  Thank you for finding me and for sticking by me, and thank you for everything you did for Meg.”  Cas paused there, for a moment.  “Just, thank you for being you.”   
  
Cas had brought their faces closer as he’d spoken, close enough that Dean could feel Cas’ breath as small puffs of air on his lips.  It would take nothing to close the distance between them, but Dean still didn’t want to push Cas into anything.  Cas clearly didn’t have the same reservations because he surged forward; pressing his warm, dry lips against Dean’s.  Dean’s reaction was immediate, and he couldn’t help but tilt his head to better the angle of the kiss as he slipped his arms around Cas, one around his back and one fisted firmly into the back of his hair.  They may not have had the chance to do this properly down at the lake, but Dean was gonna make sure Cas knew how much Dean cared for him now and how much he wanted things between them to be awesome.  Dean wasted no time teasing his tongue against the seam of Cas’ lips where he met no resistance as Cas welcomed him inside.  Dean couldn’t even bring himself to be embarrassed when he realized the tiny groan that had escaped when their tongues made contact for the first time, had actually come from him.  
  
Dean sank his tongue deeper when Cas’ hands balled into fists in the back of his shirt.  He could feel Cas’ fingers open and close to the rhythm of their kisses and it turned Dean on knowing that Cas was as affected by this as he was.  He gently tugged Cas’ bottom lip between his teeth, eliciting a quiet moan from Cas that sent all the blood in his body rushing straight south.  It was everything he could do in that moment not to roll his hips as he felt his cock hardening in his shorts.  Dean tried to concentrate on kissing Cas, trailing open-mouthed kisses across his prickled jaw, behind his ear, and down to the collar of his shirt.  Cas tipped his head back in invitation, baring so much tanned skin that Dean wanted to suck and mark Cas as his and only his for always and forever.  
  
Cas’ fingers were grappling at the hem of Dean’s t-shirt, so Dean gave him a hand, grasping it and tugging it over his head, quickly resuming mapping Cas’ neck with his lips afterward.  Cas had other plans though.  He pushed Dean backward, creating enough space to rid himself of his own shirt, and then crushed their naked chests together, skin to skin for the first time.  Dean was overwhelmed with sensations.  He bent his arms under Cas’ armpits and spread his hands open across Cas’ muscular back.  As he kissed into Cas’ mouth, he slowly lowered them both down onto the couch, inserting his thigh between Cas’ as their bodies became flush against each other.  Dean gave an experimental roll of his hips.  He could feel the solid hardness of Cas’ cock rut against his own and they both made needy sounds of arousal.   
  
The suddenness of what they were doing crossed Dean’s mind momentarily, and he pulled back, ending their kiss suddenly enough to cause a look of concern to fall over Cas’ face.  
  
“What is it, Dean?  Did I do something wrong?”  
  
“Oh, god no.  I just suddenly needed to make sure this wasn’t going too fast for you.”  
  
All of the fear and anxiety that had tightened Cas’ features and marred his beautiful face in that moment fell away at Dean’s words and Cas leaned back in to kiss Dean softly.  He pulled back.  “I want this.  You don’t know how much.  Everything I’ve been through, everything we’ve been through together, it’s all bearable because I have you, and now we can have this.”  Cas placed a hand over Dean’s chest, roughly where his heart would be.  “I’ve wanted you for so long, Dean Winchester, don’t you dare take that away from me now.”  
  
Words rarely came easily to Dean and this moment was no exception.  He nodded as he curled back down and caught Cas’ mouth again with his own.  Their kisses quickly became heated.  Dean’s hands began tracing bare skin, pressing his fingers into dips and valleys, working his way from chest to perfect hipbones while still exploring the heat of Cas’ mouth with his tongue.  When Dean managed to work both hands between the couch cushions and the back pockets of Cas’ shorts, effectively pulling their groins together more firmly, the sound Cas made was almost primal.  
  
“You like that?” Dean breathed into Cas’ open mouth.  Cas’ only response was to nod and reach behind them, circling one of Dean’s wrists with his fingers, pulling on it to work it between their bodies and pressing Dean’s palm to the bulge in his shorts.  
  
“Can you feel what you do to me?” Cas said, his voice hoarse and breathy like he’d just ran a marathon or been fucked within an inch of his life.  Dean wanted to dive back in.  He wanted to kiss Cas breathless and push against him with his hand and his dick at the same time.  He took a deep breath to calm the sensory overload and wrapped his fingers around Cas’ length through the confines of the cotton barrier then slid his hand down to cup Cas’ balls and squeezed through his shorts.  “Fuck, you’re so hot,” Dean blurted out, then shook his head.  “Sorry, that’s not super romantic or anything but…”  
  
“Dean,” Cas interrupted, “I’m not asking you to be anything but yourself.”   
  
Dean shook his head and laughed.  “What the hell did I do to deserve someone like you?” Dean wondered, not for the first time.  He kept constant pressure on Cas’ cock, rocking gently and nipping Cas’ lower lip to punctuate his words.  “You’re beautiful.  You’re kind.  You’re smart.  You’re fucking hot as hell,” Dean kissed Cas full on the mouth and squeezed his hand around Cas’ cock until Cas called out his name.  “I don’t know where you came from.”  Dean couldn’t stand it.  He needed more friction.  “Can I touch you, Cas?” he, asked hopefully, the strain in his voice evident.  
  
“Please.”  
  
Dean cupped Cas face in his palms, planting a soft kiss on his lips before pushing himself up until he was kneeling on either side of Cas’ thighs.  Dean looked down.  Cas hair was sticking out in every possible direction and, if possible, it made him look even more attractive.  His usual bright blue eyes were dark and lust-blown and they were tracking Dean’s every movement as he bent to unbuckle Cas’ belt.  Dean’s fingers felt too big and uncooperative as he fumbled with the belt buckle as if he hadn’t done this hundred of times before.  Cas hands appeared, suddenly covering his own and moments later, the buckle and top button of Cas’ shorts were unclasped, just leaving Dean the zipper that barely contained Cas’ erection.  Dean made fast work of that, and the first sight of the bulge in Cas’ navy boxer briefs had his mouth watering.  Dean quickly worked his own button and zipper, thankful that the shorts he was wearing didn’t require a belt, and were the kind with built-in mesh briefs, because one good tug and his dick was free, curved up towards his stomach and already leaking at the tip.  He gave it a couple of perfunctory tugs and groaned at his own touch before turning his attention back to where Cas was watching him with rapt eyes.  
  
Asking just one more time, Dean placed his palm over Cas’ briefs looked him in the eye.  The question must’ve been evident, because Cas nodded and Dean tugged the fabric down, watching with arousal as Cas cock popped free and bounced back against the trail of hair that lead to his belly.  Dean immediately circled it with his fingers, feeling the warmth of the soft skin slide against the hardness.  “Oh, my god, Cas,” Dean murmured as he swiped the tip with his thumb, collecting the pre-come that had already pooled there to slick his way.  
  
The sounds Cas was making were downright dirty, while Dean found a rhythm and began to really jack his cock.  Dean’s hips were humping Cas’ thigh at the same time, hoping to find some kind of friction, but it wasn’t enough.  When he stopped for a second, Cas whined.  “It’s okay, baby.  I got you,” he soothed.  He took one of his hands and wrapped it around both of their cocks.  It was a tough fit.  They were both a good size and slippery with pre-come and sweat, so it didn’t go perfectly, but before long, he built up a pretty good slip and slide.  Dean fisted his other hand up into the hair at the nape of Cas’ neck and tugged.  
  
“I’m close,” Cas cried out.  “Kiss me.”  
  
“Fuck, yes,” Dean replied and crushed into Cas’ mouth.  It was a mash of half kisses, half breathy moans.  Sometimes teeth clashed, but Dean didn’t care, he was surrounded by perfection.  Everything he felt in that moment was all he ever wanted to feel for the rest of his life and for once, it didn’t scare him one bit.   
  
Dean felt Cas body go rigid just as Cas started to chant, “Dean, Dean, Dean…”  Cas' come erupted and Dean quickly lost his grip on both cocks, so he took Cas in hand and worked him through his orgasm, watching with absolute desire as Cas came down from his high with his own come smeared across his stomach.  Dean reached down to finish himself off when Cas sat up and batted his hand away replacing it with his own.  It only took three good strokes with Cas long talented fingers, and Dean was adding his own spunk to the already cooling puddle between them.  
  
Cas grabbed a t-shirt, Dean thought it might be his, and wiped up the worst of the mess they’d made before either of them said anything.  They both shuffled back into their pants and lay back down, Dean at the back and Cas along the outside edge turned in facing Dean.  
  
“Um, wow,” Dean said as he fitted himself along the back of the couch and pulled Cas in tighter beside him.  
  
“How eloquent,” Cas replied, chuckling.  
  
“Not capable of higher brain function after that.  Sorry.”  Dean trailed a finger down the side of Cas’ face, then traced over his kiss-swollen lips.  
  
“I’ll take that as a compliment then,” Cas replied, snaking the tip of his tongue out to lick at the finger Dean placed nearby.  
  
“Definitely.”  
  
“Did you want to relocate?” Cas asked, eyeing the much larger bed across the room.  
  
“S’pose we should,” Dean mumbled, as he pulled Cas closer and snuffled into his hair.  “Maybe in a few minutes.”  
  
“That sounds good,” Cas said, while he kissed Dean’s forehead and listened to Dean’s first little snores.  “Sounds perfect, actually.”  



	9. Chapter 9

The first thing Dean became aware of as he was nudged into wakefulness was the lack of feeling in his left arm; second, was the enticing smell of coffee.  Strong coffee.   He blinked open his eyes slowly, only to smile at the the silhouette of Castiel’s striking form, cut against the morning sunshine as he stood by the counter making breakfast.  “Mornin’, Cas,” he croaked, immediately self-conscious of the sound his voice made.  
  
Cas turned from where he’d been beating, what Dean could now see was eggs, in a bowl at the counter and strode over to the couch.  “Good morning.  Did you sleep well?”  
  
Dean tugged his arm out from where it had disappeared into the crack behind the cushions and opened and closed his fist a few times.  “Once I get the feeling back in my arm, I’ll be good as new.  What time is it?”  
  
“Sorry, we never made it to the bed last night.  I guess we fell asleep.  It’s almost nine.  I wasn’t sure if you needed to be anywhere, but you hadn’t said anything and there were no alarms set on your phone, so I just let you sleep.”  
  
After swallowing hard to dispel what Dean hoped was the worst of the morning funk, Dean grabbed Cas by the arm and pulled him down until he could reach around to the back of his neck and guide him in for a kiss.  “I don’t care where we slept or what time it is, Cas, just that you’re not still here keeping me warm.”  Dean nudged Cas’ nose with his own, not even caring how corny it felt.  “That coffee does smell damn good though.”  
  
Dean allowed Cas to yank him up with both of their hands clasped and laughed when they crashed into each other from the momentum.  “Pretty sure you planned that; not that I’m complaining or anything.”  
  
Cas hummed noncommittedly and dragged Dean to the kitchen counter where he noticed there were a couple of stools next a tiny bar table under the window.  Dean hopped onto one while Cas poured him a cup of coffee and set it down in front of him.  “I was just making some omelets,” Cas mumbled when Dean tried to pull him close.  
  
“Alright, alright,” Dean said, with exaggerated exasperation.  “I’ll allow you to cook for me.”  Dean swatted Cas’ ass with a wink and burst out laughing.    
  
After the grabbing the bowl of eggs to give them another quick whisk before pouring half into the pan on the stove, Cas turned back to Dean with a smile.  “How often does that smarm work?”   
  
“Rarely,” Dean deadpanned.  
  
“I’m surprised, actually.  You’re pretty charming.”  
  
“What you call charm apparently comes across as clingy and same ‘ole, same ‘ole, to others,” Dean said, feeling the brightness of his morning instantly begin to dim at the thought of Aaron’s regular complaints towards the end of their relationship – before the man had taken it upon himself to end it once and for all.    
  
“Hey,” Cas said, tipping Dean’s face to meet his own, with a single finger placed just under Dean’s unshaved chin.  “His loss.  You give love so easily, Dean.  Your heart is so full of kindness and empathy.  If Aaron was so willing to throw that away for someone else, he didn’t deserve you.”  
  
Zoe chose that exact moment to make her presence known, nosing her way in between Dean and Cas’ legs, her tail wagging furiously.  “See, I think Zoe agrees with me,” Cas said with a soft smile.  
  
Dean was beaten and he knew it.  There was no room for self-pity when Cas was looking at him like he hung the moon and there was a was a vibrating pile of scruff with giant brown eyes just waiting to get her back scritched.  Dean wrapped one arm around Cas’ shoulders and pulled him in until their foreheads were touching and reached down to give Zoe the pets she’d been waiting so patiently for.  “Thanks, Cas,” he sighed contentedly.  Dean was again struck by how okay he was with that feeling.  
  
Cas made it back to the stove to turn the omelet just as reached the perfect golden brown.  Dean took that as serendipity and pushed all feelings of Aaron aside.  Apparently, this was not a morning to waste on regrets.  Dean only hoped Cas felt the same once they had to make the inevitable call to the hospital to check on Meg.  Dean decided not to say anything until Cas did.  Not that he didn’t care, or want to know, he just wanted to hold on to the cozy domestic feeling a little longer.  That hope shattered as soon as Cas slid a plate of delicious looking eggs and toast in front of Dean and left his own on the counter.  
  
“I’ll join you in a moment,” he said, by way of explanation.  “I just want to check in at the hospital and see how Meg’s doing.”  
  
Dean nodded and smiled his encouragement.  He was here to be strong for Cas, and he would be, no matter what.  He caught the one-sided conversation, which didn’t amount to much more than a few nods, some agreeable noises, and a hasty goodbye on Cas’ end, and then got up to pick up Cas’ plate and coffee and set it across the table from his own.  “Come and eat, Cas.  You can tell me what they said over your breakfast.”  
  
Cas sat and took a sip of his coffee, light and sweet just how he liked it, the complete opposite to the steaming black liquid Dean had been drinking.  Dean nodded at Cas’ plate, encouraging him to take a few bites of his food before launching into his explanation of the other end of his phone call.  Cas’ eyes flitted to Dean and smiled, clearly recognizing Dean’s caregiving gesture for what it was.  He carefully cut off a piece of his omelet while Dean did the same.  
  
They ate in companionable silence for a few minutes, each enjoying their breakfast amid their own thoughts.  Dean drained his coffee and got up to pour another cup, holding the pot up to ask Cas if he wanted more.  Cas shook his head no.  Dean sat back down and took Cas’ hand in his own across the small table, absently caressing his thumb along the side. “So, how’s Meg?”  
  
Cas cast his eyes down and Dean could feel the shadow encroach over their playful morning.  “She’s awake, but in pretty bad shape right now.”  Dean gave Cas’ hand a gentle squeeze, urging him to continue.  “The nurse said the effects of the heroin are working out of her system.   Basically, she’s going through withdrawal.”  
  
“Don’t you have to be a regular user to get dope sick?” Dean asked.  He’d known a few people who’d detoxed over the years, but they’d all been addicts.  He’d gotten the impression that Meg had done this intentionally.  
  
“She must’ve been using more than I knew.  The nurse said it doesn’t take many times anyway,” Cas tugged his hand away and shoved his fingers into his already sleep-mussed hair, dropping his elbows to the table on either side of his breakfast.  “How did I not notice?  My god, Dean, what kind of person doesn’t notice when their friend is spiraling out of control like that?”  Cas hopped down from his stool and stalked to the counter, slamming his hands palm down and hanging his head between his shoulder blades.  Zoe jumped back and yipped at the rare display of uncensored despair from her human.  Dean watched Cas’ shoulders slump as all the fight went out of him and got up to wrap his arms tightly around Cas waist and lean his chin on Cas’ shoulder.  
  
“You were grieving, sweetheart,” Dean whispered, needing Cas to hear his words, needing Cas to understand that what was happening to Meg was a terrible thing, and they would get through it together, but Cas couldn’t blame himself.  “You loved Jimmy so much, and he was gone – taken from you in the most horrific, violent way.  You only had so much of yourself to give to someone else.”  
  
Cas spun in Dean's arms.  “I know, but…”  
  
Dean covered Cas’ lips with a finger to stop him and Cas’ mouth closed in defeat against his skin.  “No buts.  You are not to blame for this, Cas,” he said, firmly.  
  
Cas’ full weight slumped against him and Dean held him tight.  Cas didn’t cry.  Dean wasn’t surprised; he was probably all out of tears, but Cas gripped Dean’s shirt like a lifeline and held on as if it were the only thing in the world keeping him safe.  
  
Dean’s words seemed to placate Cas, at least for the moment, after calling Missouri at the clinic with an update, and finishing his breakfast, Cas’s mood had brightened.  Dean suggested taking Zoe for a walk.  He knew how invigorating some fresh air and exercise could sometimes feel, and hanging out with Zoe was enough to make even the hardest man smile.    
  
With Zoe’s leash in his right hand and Cas’ finger’s looped in his left, Dean nodded his head in greeting at the white-haired woman in a floral-print dress watering the planters on the front porch of the little house Cas lived in.  Cas called out to her.  “Hello, Mrs. Petersen.”  
  
“Castiel, dear,” Mrs. Petersen replied, shielding her eyes from the sun with her palm.  “It’s nice to see you out with company.  I always said you spend too much time at that clinic or hiding away on your own.”  
  
Cas chuckled.  “I know, Mrs. Petersen.”  Cas glanced nervously over at Dean and then back at his landlady.  “Well, this is my boyfriend, Dean.  I hope you’ll be seeing him around quite often.”  
  
Deciding he very much liked the sound of the word ‘boyfriend’ coming from Cas’ mouth, he turned and said low enough that only Cas could hear, “damn right you will.”  Then, turning back to Mrs. Petersen with his award-winning, jaw-dropping smile he said, “Nice to meet you, Ma’am.”  
  
After leaving Mrs. Petersen blushing on her front porch, and Cas reminding Dean just how charming he was, they let Zoe lead them out of the residential area into a district of quaint ‘Mom ‘n’ Pop’ stores, perfect for window shopping.  Each window display sparked a new conversation and they enjoyed their time getting to know each other even better. 

A bakery with amazing smells wafting from their door sent the men into a deep discussion about their favorite desserts. Dean’s was pie, of course, any flavor. Cas, however, was more partial to angel food cake and peanut butter cookies.  But, he said, that when it came to pie, apple was clearly the only choice.

They stood in front of a consignment clothing store and talked about Dean’s preference for jeans and tees over Cas’ standard attire of button downs and shorts, unless he was working, of course.  It was when they reached Cas’ favorite hole in the wall book and record store that the conversation really took off.  Dean was pointing to, an admittedly damn good condition copy, of Zepp’s, _Houses of the Holy._ “Now that, right there, is the best rock album ever made.”  
  
Cas looked indignant.  “While I agree that Led Zeppelin is one of the great rock bands, the best album of all time title easily goes to, _Dark Side of the Moon.”_  
  
“You wound me, Cas,” Dean cried, stabbing both hands into his heart theatrically.  “Pink Floyd?  Really?  Did you spend your formative years going to those laser light shows?”    
  
Cas’ laughter washed over Dean and he vowed to make it happen as often as possible.  Cas shook his head, still giggling.  “Hardly, that was Jimmy, but I listened to a lot of the same music he did.  It was great background music for studying.  I take it you’re not a fan, then?”  
  
“I love Floyd,” Dean replied, “but they’re not Zepp.”  Dean leaned down to give Zoe a quick rub.  She sat so patiently beside them while they stared in the store window and she deserved some love too.  Cas nudged Dean in the arm and pointed at a coffee table book, tilted open to show off glorious black and white photography of rustic churches.  “Why don’t you do a book of your photos?  You could use some of the pictures from your blog.”  
  
The photography in the book was good, but Dean knew he had just as much talent.  In fact, the pet photos Meg did that were on the walls at Sunrise were on par as well.  Dean shrugged.  “Can’t say I haven’t thought about it.”  
  
Cas turned and looked at Dean seriously.  “You have so much natural ability.  What’s stopping you?”  
  
“An idea, I guess,” Dean answered, knowing that it was vague, but it was the truth.  “I feel like I need something cohesive to tie it all together rather than just a bunch of random pictures.  Nothing’s jumped out at me yet.”  That gave them both something to ponder as they started wandering back towards Cas’ neighborhood.  
  
There was no sign of Mrs. Petersen when they passed the front of the house this time.  Zoe was already tired enough from their walk, so they all followed each other inside.  Zoe went straight for her water bowl, and Cas headed straight for the fridge.  “Beer, soda, water?” he called out.  Dean had made a beeline for the bathroom, so he called back from there.  “Beer’s good.  Thanks.”    
  
Cas handed him the chilled bottle as he made his way back into the main room and took a seat on the couch.  “I should probably check in with Sam, let him know what’s going on,” Dean said, setting his beer on the coffee table, careful to place it on one of the quilted coasters so it wouldn’t leave a ring on the wood.   He tugged his phone out of his back pocket and swiped his screen to see several texts from his brother and a missed call from Charlie.  He would give her a call later, but he knew Sam would be worried.  
  
“Maybe I should call the hospital again.  Get another update,” Cas mused, reaching for his own phone.  
  
They both finished their calls around the same time and Cas took a seat with Dean on the couch.  He wasted no time leaning into Dean’s space for a kiss, which Dean eagerly returned.  When Dean looped his arm over Cas’ shoulders, Cas tucked his feet up underneath the cushion and melted into Dean’s side.  “Everything fine with Sam?” Cas asked, absently picking at a loose thread on the hem of his shirt.  
  
“Yes, he was just finishing up lunch at work.  Said to tell you hi and he’s sorry to hear about what happened to Meg.  If there’s anything he can do…”  Cas nodded, in what Dean knew to mean, there wasn’t really much Sam could do to help, but he appreciated the sentiment.  “What about Meg?  How is she?”  
  
“No change.” Cas sighed.  “Still throwing up and shaking.  I asked if she was able to have visitors.  They don’t recommend it until after the first forty-eight hours.  After that, assuming her health as a whole is fine they’ll keep her one more day and then, with her permission, they’ll release her to rehab.”  
  
“And if she doesn’t give her permission?” Dean asked, not sure he wanted to know the answer.  
  
“They’ll release her anyway.  They can’t keep her at the hospital without a medical reason and they can’t send her to rehab against her will.”  
  
Dean took a deep breath before asking his next question.  No matter how important, and how carefully he asked, he still felt like he was prying.  “Cas, how is Meg gonna pay for all this?  The ambulance?  The hospital?  Rehab?  That shit’s not cheap.”  
  
“Everything Jimmy had he left to me and Meg.  That’s why my Father was so upset and angry last weekend.  Jimmy tried to give Meg money so many times when he was alive and she refused to take it – well now it’s hers.”  
  
“And yours,” Dean added.  
  
“And mine.”  
  
Dean pulled Cas in closer.  He knew the money was of no consequence to Cas.  To him, it was just an ugly reminder of the fact that he no longer had his brother.  He turned his face and kissed Cas’ cheek.  “I’m sorry, sweetheart.”  
  
“For what?” Cas asked in a whisper, picking up on Dean’s serious tone.  
  
“For what happened to Jimmy.  For what’s happening now to Meg.  For all the hurt you’ve had to go through these last few months.  You don’t deserve any of it.”  
  
Cas brought his palm up to cradle Dean’s face.  Dean could feel the pressure of Cas’ fingers against his cheek as Cas spoke.  “The one spark of light in all of this darkness has been you.  You walked into my life just as I needed you the most and you’ve never let me down.  I couldn’t have made it through any of this without you.”  
  
Dean shifted his head just enough that he could drop a kiss to the center of Cas’ palm, then grasped Cas’ hand in his and brought it down to his lap.  “I wouldn’t wanna be anywhere else, I swear, but you don’t give yourself enough credit.  You’ve been so strong, so self-reliant.  You have me, yes, but you didn’t need me.”  Dean could feel the heaviness in the air surrounding them, and he could see an urgency in Cas eyes that hadn’t been there before.  The usual bright blue was now a dark sapphire with a shimmer that captured Dean’s gaze and held it.  The next words that left Cas’ beautiful bow lips had Dean struggling to breathe.  
  
“I need you more than you know.  Take me to bed, Dean,” Cas whispered, his voice lower than Dean had ever heard it.  Cas untangled himself from Dean’s arm and rose, tugging Dean with him as he did, leading him to the bed.  
  
The boldness Cas seemed to pull out of nowhere on the couch didn’t stop once they stood standing opposite each other beside Cas’ oak sleigh bed.  Dean tried not to think of Mrs. Petersen when he glanced at the inviting pile of clearly homemade quilts and throw pillows.  It looked way too homey for what they were about to do.  His attention was quickly refocused when Cas slid both his hands from Dean’s neck to his waist and yanked his t-shirt from the hem.  Dean hurriedly got with the program and raised his arms, allowing Cas to pull the shirt over his head and off.  Dean ran his hand through his hair and then made sure to swiftly even the playing field, tossing Cas’ shirt to the floor in the same general direction Cas had flung his.  Once they were both bare-chested, there was no turning back.  Dean plunged his fingers into Cas’ hair and kissed him hard and fast.    
  
Cas returned the kiss with a fervor.  If Dean had any reservations that Cas wasn’t completely on board with the direction they were headed, they dissipated when Cas slipped his insistent thigh between Dean’s legs.  When he felt the rigid line of Cas’ cock massage against his groin, Dean groaned at the contact, letting his hands slide to Cas’ ass to press their aroused bodies closer.  Cas’ lips left Dean’s instantly and he let out a growl, tilting his head just enough to entice Dean to latch his mouth just below Cas’ jaw.  Dean started with little butterfly kisses, peppering Cas’ neck. But, at Castiel’s urgent encouragement, he abandoned the kissing and licking in favor of sucking a bruise into the man’s skin. Cas’ hips moved erratically in response and to feel that movement on his cock again, Dean repeated the action.  

Cas reacted beautifully when Dean began leaving tiny love bites, his breath hitching and his stomach twitching every time Dean dragged his teeth lightly against Cas’ skin. Over and over, Cas would let out a filthy moan, and then Dean would obediently suck and lick until Cas was thrusting against him wantonly.   Dean felt like he would explode if he didn’t get some relief soon.  
  
Using the hands he had firmly grasping the globes of Cas’ ass, as leverage, Dean pulled the two of them backward until he felt the back of his knees hit the mattress, then he let go.  Looking up at Cas, Dean leaned back on his hands and shuffled himself back until he was in the center of the bed.  He wasted no time pulling off his shorts and then with one knee raised and his foot firmly planted on the mattress, he took his dick in hand, now hot and achingly hard, and gave it a few good tugs.  There was enough pre-come to slick the way and he couldn’t help the “son of a bitch” that escaped at how good it felt to finally touch.  
  
Dean glanced at Cas, ready to joke about him not already being naked beside him until he saw the ‘deer in the headlights’ look on his face.  Dean scrambled to his knees and shuffled over to Cas instantly.  “Cas?” he whispered, suddenly scared he done something horribly wrong.  Cas shook his head, confusing Dean even more.  The fear must’ve shown on Dean’s face because Cas grabbed him by the shoulders and shoved Dean backward while Cas tried to climb up on his knees to join him on the bed.  The angle was terrible and it was too difficult for Dean to balance shuffling backward, so when he inevitably toppled over, he took Cas with him.  The only way to avoid bending his knees in a direction they weren’t meant to bend, was to fall forwards, landing him half on top of Cas, his erection now half deflated, and Cas laughing uncontrollably.  
  
“So, now this is funny to you,” Dean asked, barely succeeding in keeping a straight face.  “I notice you’re not the naked one here.”  
  
Cas tried to rein in it, still gasping occasionally, and wiping the corners of his eyes.  “I’m sorry.  That was entirely my fault.  You were so worried, and I was trying to show you everything was fine.  Clearly, I didn’t choose the best way to accomplish that.”  
  
“Well you lightened things up,” Dean said, with a grin.  “Now, you wanna tell me what had you frozen back there?”  Dean leaned on his arm to take the weight off of Cas and used his other hand to trace geometric patterns on Cas’ chest with his fingers.  He hoped the repetitive movements grounded Cas as much as they did him. “Sweetheart, if you’re not ready for this, we don’t have to do anything more than we did yesterday.  That was amazing.”  
  
“Yesterday was…” Cas swept his hand up through Dean’s hair.  “Dean, I’ve never felt anything like that before.  Being with you that way – it was profound.”  
  
He leaned easily into Cas’ touch.  Dean dreaded asking, but he needed to know.  “Have you ever?” was as far as he got before Cas interrupted.  “What we did last night, yes, once, and it wasn’t with someone who was important to me.”  Cas took a deep breath before his next admission.  “If you’re asking if I’ve ever had intercourse, the answer is no, but I would very much like to – uh, with you.”  
  
Dean’s breath hitched and at that moment, he didn’t think he could possibly want anything more, but that didn’t explain why Cas had looked so damn terrified.  “Oh god, I want that, so much, but why did you look so spooked before?”  
  
Cas lowered his eyes, and for a moment, Dean worried Cas might brush it off, but then he spoke softly.  “You’re so damn beautiful.  When you were on the bed stroking yourself, I felt like I was looking at a Greek God or something.”  Dean started to shake his head to disagree.  That was ludicrous.  I mean, yeah, he wasn’t a bad looking dude, but…”I don’t think you realize the effect you have on me,” Cas continued, while Dean lay there trying not to fidget.  “I was standing there, more aroused than I’ve ever been in my life, starting at the most gorgeous man I’ve ever seen, hard and leaking and jerking himself for me.  I froze because what if I screw it up?  I don’t know what the hell I’m doing, Dean.”  
  
All Dean could do was lean down and kiss Cas; kiss him until all the emotion bubbling up inside boiled over with every touch of his lips and tongue.  He kissed until he was certain that Cas couldn’t possibly doubt how badly Dean needed him.  He finally pulled back, catching the saliva on the corner of Cas’ mouth with the pad of his thumb.  “I don’t care how much or how little experience you have.  We can take this at whatever pace you’re comfortable with.  We can practice all you like,” Dean let out a tiny laugh.  “What I’m trying to say is, whatever we do will be amazing because it will be with you.  Every time you touch me feels like I’m going crazy with how much I want you.  There’s nothing you could do that could possibly be wrong.”  
  
Without taking his eyes off of Dean’s, Cas reached blindly to the nightstand, feeling around for the handle and finally tugging it open.  He grappled a few seconds with the contents, but eventually came out triumphant – in his hand a small bottle of Astroglide, which Dean noted was half empty, and an unopened box of condoms.  Dean lifted a questioning eyebrow at the bottle, to which Cas just shrugged, blushing slightly.  Once the items were dropped beside them on the bed, Cas’ hand went next to the top button on his shorts.  Still not having looked away, Dean knocked Cas’ hand out of the way and cupped his palm over Cas’ bulge.  Cas shifted his hips to meet Dean’s hand, letting out a soft cry at the touch.  
  
“Please,” Cas said, almost breathlessly.  
  
“What do you need, sweetheart?” Dean asked, firmly pressing his fingers down the length of Cas shaft, feeling his own dick pump out a dribble of pre-come in anticipation.  
  
“Touch me.”  
  
There was nothing short of the apocalypse that would stop Dean from obeying that command.  He expertly flicked the button on Cas’ shorts and pulled the zipper down.  He couldn’t tear his eyes away from Cas’ while he shoved at the fabric of Cas’ boxer shorts.  Cas’ hair was wildly tousled from lying on his back, his cheeks were flushed and ruddy, and his eyes were dark with arousal.  Dean finally freed Cas’ fully erect cock and watched Cas’ beautiful face light up with pleasure when he curled his fist around the length of it, stroking from base to glistening crown.  Dean shifted his own weight so he was pressed more firmly against Cas’ thigh, chasing some much needed friction against his own aching cock.  
  
Finally, Cas broke their eye contact, leaning up on his elbows to latch his mouth onto Deans.  The combination of rough kisses and frottage was making Dean dizzy with need.  Slipping his tongue out of Cas’ mouth licking down his neck, Dean sucked an open mouthed trail of kisses downward, peppering them along his collarbone, over his chest, and onto his nipples.  Cas gasped when Dean pulled the hard bud into his mouth and tugged at it with his teeth.  Dean soothed the sensitive spot with his tongue and continued his exploration of Cas’ firm body.  Dean kissed the freckles on Cas’ stomach, and mouthed at the sharp hipbones that formed the vee that framed the trail of hair leading to Cas’ beautiful cock.  Dean took it in hand again, pressing himself against the mattress at the “Yes, Dean,” that Cas moaned when he’d swiped his thumb over the swollen head.  
  
“Anyone ever suck you off, Cas?”  
  
Cas shook his head, writhing his back and hips against the quilts.  “I want you to, Dean.  Will you suck me?”  
  
“Fuck, yeah, sweetheart,” Dean managed to blurt out before licking up the underside of Cas’ dick.  He swirled his tongue around the tip, tasting the slightly bitter pre-come, feeling more pool at the top from his actions.  Dean opened his mouth, curled his lips over his teeth, and sunk down, using his fist to hold onto what he couldn’t take.  He pulled part way off and plunged down a little further, letting his throat get used to the feeling of something so big.  Cas was actually groaning, fisting his hands into the quilts with the effort of not thrusting up into Dean’s mouth.  Dean was reminded just how much he loved doing this – the silky velvet skin over a hot, hard cock.  Dean pushed down again and swallowed, causing Cas to cry out.  “Oh, Fuck.”  
  
Dean pulled off and climbed back up Cas’ body, legs on either side of Cas’ trapping their erections between them, and kissed the taste of Cas’ own pre-come into his mouth.  Cas kissed back with equal passion, clearly enjoying the new sensation.  Dean shuffled forwards so he was partially sitting and Cas’ cock slipped behind him, riding up his ass crack.  Dean’s breath hitched when he looked at Cas, wide-eyed with shock and desire.  “Fuck me,” he whispered, looking Cas right in the eye.    
  
“Yeah, uh.  Yeah, okay,” Cas managed to stutter out, but nerves aside, Dean could see that he wanted to.  Dean rolled over onto his back, grabbing the lube as a last second thought.  He wrapped Cas hand around the small clear bottle, squeezing it with his own.  “I trust you.”  
  
Cas nodded with conviction, kicking off his shorts as he moved between Dean’s legs.  Dean handed him a quilted pillow and tried to ignore the fact that it was covered in green and blue kittens.  Cas tucked the pillow under Dean’s hips and sat back on his haunches to look.  
  
“Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” Dean joked to make up for the fact that he felt a little exposed with Cas just admiring him spread open like a centerfold.  
  
“If my phone were closer…”   
  
“Don’t even fuckin’ think about it,” Dean chuckled, nervously.  
  
“Don’t worry, I’ll save the nude photos for another day,” Cas teased, while he clicked open the bottle of lube and generously slicked up his fingers.  “Right now I have the real thing inches away.”  
  
There was something about that first breech of a lubed finger that Dean had always loved; the intrusion, the burn, the feeling of wanting to drill down onto it until it filled you.  The fact that this was Cas, and this was the first time he had done this to anyone but himself, just made it that much more thrilling.  Cas pressed in and out, using the heel of his hand to rub against Dean’s perineum and balls.  His other hand had already wrapped loosely around Dean’s cock, matching the pace of his finger, building Dean up slowly.  The second finger found that spot that had Dean arching off the bed.  Cas added a little more lube and repeated the motion until Dean was writhing and leaking pre-come over Cas’ fist.  
  
Cas slid a third lubed finger beside the others while Dean pushed back against them.  Cas stopped stroking Dean’s cock and just held it steady with his fist at the base, finally leaning down to take the head into his mouth, suckling lightly.  Dean had to concentrate not to blow his load right fucking there.  Cas bobbed up and down, with a little too much spit and not quite enough pressure, but Dean _did not care_.  Watching Cas give head for the first time while fucking him with three fingers was easily the most erotic thing Dean had ever seen.  Dean knew he was moaning.  In fact, he was almost panting.  “Not gonna last,” he managed to stutter out, groping a hand down to Cas’ head, unsure whether to push him down or pull him off.  
  
Cas got the message and released Dean’s cock wetly, a string of spit still connecting his bottom lip to Dean’s tip. Cas wiped it with the back of his hand and used the new angle to pump his fingers into Dean more forcefully. Dean resisted the urge to rock against them.  He patted around the side of the bed until he felt the condom box and tore into it, finally grasping the foil wrapped packet he needed in his fingers.  He fumbled a bit getting it open, but eventually, got the thing pinched at the tip and ready to go.  Cas looked nervous again.  “You ready?” Dean asked, as he handed his lover the condom.  
  
Cas’ eyes softened as he took it and Dean watched as he rolled it over his dick and then proceeded to close his eyes and squeeze the base.  Clearly, Cas was having the same difficulty prolonging this as Dean was.  After a few beats, Cas squirted a good measure of Astroglide from the bottle into his palm and slicked himself up, groaning at the attention to his own cock.  Cas settled back between Dean’s thighs and Dean tried to relax but hell, he was so fucking worked up.  Before Cas could do anything else, Dean pushed himself up on the heels of his hands and pulled Cas into a sloppy kiss, mostly a clash of breath and teeth.But, Dean needed Cas to know that this was more than just sex to him, to both of them.  
  
When Cas repositioned himself, he glanced up at Dean one more time, and Dean nodded, watching Cas’ eyes, knowing how overwhelming that feeling of pushing in for the first time was – the all-encompassing heat and tightness.  Dean wanted to see Cas’ face at that moment and feel it at the same time.  So, he watched attentively, even as he felt the pressure of Cas’ blunt cock at his hole, stretching as Cas slowly pushed in.  Dean resisted the urge to bear down and just impale himself.  “Fuck,” he hissed, as he remembered now the pleasure-pain and how much he loved that first feeling of fullness. He wanted more, but he let Cas take the lead, enjoying the blissed-out look in Cas’ eyes and the primal keening sound escaping his slightly open mouth.  
  
“Dean, oh, Dean…” Cas whined, still pressing in agonizingly slowly.  “Is this, is this okay?” he stammered behind gritted teeth.  
  
“Yesss,” Dean rushed out.  “So much, yes.  Keep going.”  
  
Cas sighed and his whole body shuddered with the relief of no longer having to hold back.  Dean moaned loudly when Cas’ body finally met his and they both stilled in the moment.  Dean needed Cas to move through, he needed more.  “Please,” he whimpered, “move, please.”  
  
The drag when Cas slowly pulled his cock almost all the way out was exquisite and Dean cried out again, his sounds followed immediately by Cas’ own when Cas slammed back in.  “Oh my god, Dean, I didn’t know.  I didn’t know it felt…” he trailed off into indistinguishable noises as he set up a rhythm, pounding into Dean.    
  
Dean lifted his shaking legs and wrapped them tightly around Cas’ waist, trying to pull them closer together.  The slight shift in angle had Cas brushing against Dean’s prostate on every thrust.  The intensity was more than Dean could handle and he could feel his release building, the tell-tale tightening in his balls had him reaching to take himself in hand, jerking roughly to sounds to Cas’ thighs slapping against his ass.  “Fuck, I’m there, sweetheart,” Dean panted, just seconds before his orgasm punched through him, leaving him breathless and his chest covered in his own spunk.  Cas was right behind him, a chorus of “Dean, Dean, Dean,” as he pumped his release into the condom, working through his own orgasm to the aftershocks of Deans.   
  
They collapsed together with their chests heaving.  Dean tipped Cas’ chin up for a long, languid kiss, enjoying the feel of Cas’ body on top of his own during his post-sex haze.  He felt Cas’ flaccid dick slip out of him, never the world’s most pleasant feeling, nudging him that if they didn’t want to be unpleasantly crusty very soon, they should probably clean up a little.  
  
He pecked Cas on the forehead and rolled them until they were on their sides facing each other.  “I’m just gonna grab something to get rid of some of this mess, okay?”  
  
“Mmmmm,” was apparently Cas’ only manageable reply.  Since Cas didn’t appear to be capable of speech or movement, Dean gently pulled the condom off of Cas’ soft cock and tied it, taking it with him to get rid of in the bathroom trash.  After wiping them both down with a warm washcloth, Dean pulled Cas back into his arms and sighed softly.  Cas curled into his embrace like the perfect little spoon.  “I’m so happy,” he mumbled before starting to snore softly.  
  
They didn’t sleep for long.  Dean woke suddenly to a rough, wet tongue licking stripes across his face.  He shook his face to try and escape, but the onslaught kept coming.  “Zoe, no!” Cas mumbled from somehow being tangled around Dean like a handsy octopus.  They both shuffled into a semi-sitting position, backs against the oak headboard.  Dean slipped his arm around Cas and chuckled.  “Someone was getting bored?”  
  
“Someone was wondering why she wasn’t invited into the bed, more likely,” Cas answered, patting the end of the mattress.  Zoe hopped right up and curled up at their feet, seemingly satisfied now that she could see her Daddy.  
  
“Ah, I see how it is,” Dean teased.  “I have to share the bed with both of you.”  
  
“Only sometimes,” Cas said with a smirk.  “Hey, that gives me an idea for a story!”  
  
“Oh no, I don’t know if I need to be in any of your little stories, unless it’s porn, of course,” Dean replied, winking at his innuendo.    
  
“I write about puppies and kittens, Dean,” Cas said with mock offense.  “You know, cute, fluffy, adorable, non-pornographic?”  
  
Dean thought for a moment.  He’d never asked, but it had only come up once before.  Maybe now was the time since Cas had been the one to open the subject.  
  
“Will you show me?” he asked with trepidation.  He knew first-hand what it was like to share a piece of yourself like that.  He wouldn’t pressure Cas if he wasn’t willing.  
  
“In the nightstand, there’s a dark blue journal with black quill feathers etched on it.”  
  
Dean raised an eyebrow in question.  Cas nodded in response.  Trying not to jostle Cas too much, Dean leaned over to the nightstand and felt around until his fingers touched on what felt like a leather-bound book.  Treating it with the reverence it deserved, Dean placed the book carefully between them on the bed and waited for Cas to take the lead.  
  
“There are lots,” Cas mused as he flipped through the gilt-edged pages of cursive script, many containing crossed out lines, and inserted text.  “Here, read this one,” he decided and pushed the book more squarely onto Dean’s lap.  
  
Dean read through the pages of Cas’ handwriting, laughing out loud at the story of a woman who had brought her pink Pomeranian in to see Dr. Moseley.  The pooch, who had been accidentally dyed with a jug of cherry Koolaid, was physically fine, but embarrassed, according to her elderly ‘Mom’ and she hoped Dr. Moseley could offer her some form of doggie counseling.  “This shit real?” Dean asked, wiping the moisture that had built up at the corner of his eyes from laughing so hard at Cas’ words.  
  
“I assure you, it was,” Cas replied with a gummy smile.  
  
“Maybe you’re the one who should write a book, man,” Dean said, shaking his head.  
  
“Only if you take the photographs,” Cas laughed.  
  
The idea started to take serious form in Dean’s head.  “Actually, Cas.  Joking aside, you know that’s not a bad idea.”  Dean could see Cas was about to interrupt him, so he jumped in before he could.  “Wait, hear me out.  Your stories are perfect – short, cute, funny, well-written.  I mean, we’d have to use only the fictional ones unless we wanna get permission from the clients, but we can work that out later, and what about getting Meg to take pictures of animals to illustrate it?  It would give her something to work towards, for her recovery, ya know?”  Dean grabbed Cas’ hands, excited about this sudden, but yet perfect, idea, even though it was still coming together in bits and pieces.  “Think about it! It would give us all something to focus on; something positive.”  
  
Dean could see the wheels turning in Cas’ mind.  When Cas got that puzzled, intrigued expression on his face when his head tilted to the side just slightly and his eyes crinkled at the corners, he knew he was onto something.  “I would be willing to put up the money I got from Jimmy’s estate for a project like that if it would help Meg.”  Cas was practically bouncing on the bed as the idea began to really take shape.  “And what about the proceeds going to the Pulse Victim’s families?”  
  
“You know Sam and Eileen would be able to help with that.  They know the best places to funnel funds so that they get to the folks that really need them.”  
  
Dean reached over and grabbed his shorts.  “I think it’s time we finally make it out of this bed.  Maybe we can meet Sam and Eileen for dinner and get this ball in motion.”  
  
The look on Cas’ face was a mixture of excitement and disappointment.  “Don’t worry,” Dean placated, “if the past twenty-four hours have taught me anything, it’s that you don’t take anything for granted.  Life’s too short for that.  Now that we finally got our heads out of our asses and know how we feel, I plan on showing you every chance I get.”  Dean pulled Cas into his arms and breathed in his unique scent of green tea shampoo and something faintly spicy.  
  
Cas pressed his lips to Dean’s neck and Dean shivered in response.  That reaction was nothing compared to his body and heart’s visceral response to the words that followed.  “I love you, Dean,” Cas whispered.  
  
Dean didn’t think he’d ever felt more at peace with the direction his life was headed.  He was in love with an incredible man who loved him in return, he had his blog and now a new book idea, Sam, and Eileen were happy, Charlie was as amazing as ever, and hopefully, Meg would look towards her future and work hard to get well.  He had hope for the first time in a long while, and it felt amazing.  He pulled back to cradle Cas’ face in his palms.  “I love you too, Cas, so much.  Let’s do this thing.”  



	10. Chapter 10

  
  
Rio sprung from the old oak kitchen table when Dean dropped the heavy box onto it.  It wobbled a little under the weight, but Dean figured they could stuff something else under one of the legs to even it out for now.  Missouri had given it to them when she found out they didn’t have one.  Dean had known Dr. Mosely for almost a year now and there was one thing he knew with certainty, there was no saying ‘no’ to her.  
  
When he finally decided to take the plunge and stay in Florida permanently, Dean had left his house fully furnished for the renters.  A Kansas road trip to pick up Dean’s car, and some personal items that had filled it to come back with, had been all Dean needed of his old life.  They’d decided to rent a small house in a trendy area not far from Cas’ clinic.  It had a yard for Zoe to run and space for a small garden; there was even a little patio out back with a wrought iron swing that Dean secretly loved.  But since Cas’ previous place had been a small one, there wasn’t much furniture to move. The trips to thrift stores to furnish their shared space had been an adventure, the product of which had been the learning each other’s tastes and eccentricities.  Dean had fallen more in love with Cas with every detail he’d learned about his quirky, amazing, boyfriend. And, if a lot of their things were mismatched or second-hand, Dean didn’t mind in the least. Their space, much like their relationship, was quite comfortable despite its imperfections.  
  
“Hey Cas, the books are here,” Dean hollered upstairs, hoping Cas was awake enough to hear him.  The house wasn’t that big, but they’d only been asleep a few hours when the courier had come to the door.  Cas might be still dead to the world up there.  
  
Deciding not to wait for Cas to make an appearance, Dean grabbed his keys from the glass bowl by the front door and carefully scored the tape at the top of the box.  He pulled apart the top two flaps and then stopped with the cardboard in held tightly in each fist.  There was no way he could do this without Cas beside him.  This was mostly Cas’ achievement, Dean had just been along for the ride.  In fact, Dean thought, he should probably give Meg a call as well.  She had been just as much a part of the process as Cas had, her recovery being one of the catalysts of the whole idea.  
  
He was just finishing his call with Meg when Cas wandered down the stairs, still rubbing at his bleary eyes.  “Are they really here?” he asked in his gravelly morning voice.   
  
Dean couldn’t contain his excitement and ran over to grab Cas’ hand, dragging him over to the partially opened box on the table.  Cas side-eyed him under a mop of messy dark hair in desperate need of a trim.  “You didn’t wait for me or Meg?”  
  
Dean had the balls to look at least a little sheepish for getting as far as he did with the box.  “Started to open it, but then I realized there was no way I could do it without you,” he said, leaning into mouth at the stubble on Cas’ jaw.  Dean wrapped his arm around Cas’ waist and slide his hand up under the loose t-shirt Cas had thrown on before coming downstairs.  He scratched absently at Cas’ warm skin as he dropped butterfly kisses along Cas’ collarbone.  “Do you forgive me?” Dean asked, tilting his head and fluttering his eyelashes coquettishly.|  
  
“You’re impossible,” Cas laughed, pushing him away playfully.  “Seriously though, Meg should be here too.”  
  
Dean pecked Cas once more on the cheek for good measure.  “Yeah, I called her.  She growled at me,” he chuckled.  “She made it pretty damn clear that I better hang up the phone and let her get back to sleep or she was gonna do something impolite to my balls.”  
  
“Sounds like Meg,” Cas said, peering over the top of the box looking like an eager puppy now that Dean had kissed him awake.  
  
Seeing Cas so excited reinforced Dean’s decision to wait until he was fully awake so that they could both appreciate the contents of the box.  He nodded and Cas pulled up the remaining cardboard flaps, revealing brown paper which Cas tore away like a child on Christmas morning.  Dean couldn’t help but grin when he looked at the glossy hardcover coffee table book covers packed carefully side by side.  Cas was vibrating, grabbing onto Dean’s arm and pointing into the box, not quite touching the treasure inside.  He read the cover aloud for the first time.  


**Four Legged Friends of Orlando Florida  
** short stories by: **  
Castiel Novak  
** with photography by: **  
Meg Masters** & **Dean Winchester**  


Behind the stylised text was one of Meg’s beautiful photos.  Dean didn’t have the same restraint as Cas.  When he saw Rio and Zoe’s faces staring back at him in glossy color, he ran his finger over the shiny cover in awe.  
  
“You did it, Cas.”  
  
“ _We_ did it,” Cas replied, hefting one of the books out of the box with care and running his hand over it reverently.  “I’m a published author.  Your photographs are in print.  Meg is finally working at what she loves.  This book is just the beginning.”  
  
“You better believe it, baby!” Dean gushed, pushing the box over to the side so Cas could set the book down on the table.  First, Dean flipped the beautiful book over, where, on the back cover, was a photo of Cas, Meg, Dean, Zoe, and Rio, crouched in front of the Pulse Memorial. Just under that and their biographies, was a note in bold print:  
  
**~All proceeds from the sale of this book go to a fund to assist with the ongoing legal battles of the families of the victims of the Pulse Nightclub Shooting~  
  
** Dean quickly flipped to the dedication page, the only part of the book he hadn’t seen.  Cas insisted he wait until the book was in its final printed form.  Dean read aloud.   
  
**“This book, from conception to completion, would not exist if not for _Humans of Lawrence Kansas_ , or one in particular…**  
  
**Dean, thank you for restoring my faith in humanity, and more importantly, myself.  Thank you for giving me a shoulder to cry on, a friend to laugh with, and a home where I feel safe again. Thank you for loving me unconditionally, and allowing me the honor of loving you in return.**  
  
**As well, to Jimmy.  I miss you.”**  
  
Dean looked up from the page to see Cas’ eye focused directly on his and he could feel the dampness escape the corner of his eye and begin to trickle down his cheek.  Cas swiped it away with his thumb before Dean could make some wise-crack about it.  Leaning into Cas’ touch, Dean swallowed the lump forming in his throat.  Cas stopped him from speaking by trailing his thumb down to gently cover his lips.  
  
“Shhh,” he whispered.  “I meant every word.”  
  
Dean nodded just as Cas replaced the thumb with his lips, brushing softly against Dean’s own halting his movement.  
  
“Now, how do we celebrate?” Cas asked, pulling back just enough to facilitate a conversation, but not enough to really create distance.  Dean didn’t mind.  He loved having Cas close.  Even after all these months, he was still fucking amazed he got to have this.   
  
“Well I can think of a few ways,” Dean answered with a smirk, trying to waggle his eyebrows, suggestively, moving to grab Cas around the waist.  
  
“Not that I’m at all opposed to that suggestion, but we do have to be downtown in a few hours, and if we’re celebrating our book release,” Cas allowed himself to be caught and rolled his hips meticulously against Dean’s very interested cock, “I would like to be able to take my time bringing you to your release later.”  
  
Dean groaned.  “Fuck, Cas.  You can’t just say shit like that when we have to be somewhere.  Now I’m gonna be thinking about it and walking around downtown Orlando all day with a semi.”   
  
Dean was pretty sure the predatory grin on Cas’ face just made things infinitely worse.  “Oh, I’ll make sure it’s worth the wait, my love.”  
  
“I’m holding you to that, you know,” Dean answered, kissing Cas chastely and pulling away before things got any more heated.  They did have another ceremony to attend, and he really didn’t need to be all worked up.  “And on that note, I’m gonna go jump in the shower, alone.”  Zoe chose that moment to decide it was also morning for her as she ran into the kitchen circling their legs.  “I got it,” Dean said, making a detour to the back door.  “I’ll let her out if you can let her back in,” he called from the hallway.  Dean heard Cas answer in the affirmative as he headed upstairs to the bedroom.   
  
Dean considered the day ahead as he stripped out of his sleep pants and started the shower.  As the hot water soothed his body and mind, he thought about going back, yet again, to Pulse, where they’d already spent an hour earlier that morning.  At exactly 2:02 am, at the exact time, Omar Mateen had opened fire at the club one year ago, Dean and Cas had stood with the other survivors, families, and a few local officials and lit candles in memory of those who had lost their lives.  Dean had taken Cas’ hand and squeezed as Jimmy Novak’s name had been read aloud.  Meg stood stoically beside them, lost in her own memories of that horrifying night.  Part of Dean rebelled against the idea of making Cas, and Meg, have to go through that a second time, but the public ceremony promised to celebrate how a city came together in the face of tragedy, and that was something he and Cas had witnessed first-hand.  Sam and Eileen were joining them this time as well.  Charlie was flying in with her girlfriend, Gilda.  Apparently, the fairy at the con in Las Vegas had been a keeper and Dean and Cas were meeting her officially for the first time.  Missouri and Hannah would be there as well and they would likely bring a few critters down to make sure people stayed smiling.  Missouri was a firm believer that animals were perfect therapy.  As Dean toweled off and dressed for the day, he thought maybe they needed this after all.  A day spent with those they loved, remembering, celebrating, and just being together.   
  
The dark grey button-down shirt Dean had chosen seemed somber against the bright rainbow colors of the many memorials and decorations.  The mood definitely had a lighter feel than earlier in the day, but there was still an air of respect and honor surrounding the site.   
  
Dean and Cas listened intently, surrounded by their chosen family and many others with ‘Love Wins’ banners and ‘One Orlando’ spelled in rainbow letters, while people spoke of hope, and courage, and resistance within the LGBTQ community.  They looked out on a sea of faces, of every color and creed, when the Mayor Orange County spoke of the devastation to the Orlando Latino community, well aware that the majority of the victims of the disaster had been Hispanic. Thousands had gathered to pay tribute, and Dean held tightly to Cas’ hand as they stared up at the wall of white-flowered hearts until they found Jimmy’s name.   
  
The Orlando Gay Chorus could be heard in the background.   
  
_I see your true colors_  
 _Shining through_  
 _I see your true colors_  
 _And that's why I love you_  
 _So don't be afraid to let them show_  
 _Your true colors_  
 _True colors are beautiful_  
 _Like a rainbow_  
  
They turned to the source of the music, just in time to catch the end.  “I love you, Cas,” Dean whispered in Cas ear as the last singer trailed off the very last note. Cas tipped his head until it rested on Dean’s shoulder, resting into his side while they watched the crowds with their rainbow flags.  
  
“And I love you, Dean,”  Cas replied softly.  
  
Maybe love could win this time, Dean thought as he wrapped his arm around Cas tightly and smiled.

 


	11. Chapter 11

Note from the Author

Although it is loosely based on a deeply tragic real life event, this story is a work of fiction. Like all of you, I was horrified to learn of the shooting at the Pulse Nightclub in Orlando, Florida on June 12, 2016. As an out and proud member of the queer community, it hurt to know my queer family had been victimized in such a way. I cried with millions of you worldwide while following the news online, sickened by what I was seeing, yet unable to look away.

It was only several months later, after the idea of Dean’s Humans of Lawrence Kansas Blog, patterned after the popular HoNY blog had settled into my head, that I considered beginning the story with Pulse. I was unsure whether I should. It was real news. These were real people. But, the more I thought about it, the more it spoke to me and the more I needed to write it. I wanted to write a story of hope and love. 

When I did get past the planning and outlining stage, it was Pride season. I was inundated with images of Orlando pride, and One Love Orlando, and Love Wins. Those messages kept me writing, and reminded me that, whenever we’re marginalized, whenever we’re hurting, the LGBTQ+ community always stands together. We believe in love, and hope, and the fact that no matter who we love, what gender we express, what color our skin is, who we worship, or where we were born, we are all equal.

I hope, Dean and Cas brought you the same hope and healing in this story that they did for me. I put a lot of me into it, including the animals, whom I love unconditionally. When you’re feeling down, hug a dog or a cat, you’ll feel immeasurably better. I promise. 

Thank you for reading.

Paula (Zoelily)

**Author's Note:**

> True Colors, as performed in this story by the Orlando Gay Chorus, was written by Billy Steinberg and Tom Kelly and originally recorded by Cyndi Lauper.
> 
> I tried to be as true as possible to the events of June 12, 2016. As well, I have never been to Orlando, FL. My apologies for anything I got wrong from having to rely on research.


End file.
